Harry Potter One-shots
by Speeder9319
Summary: Ever wonder about moments in the Harry Potter series that were only barely mentioned? Do you want to know more? This is a series of one-shots that stick with the plot, nothing AU, but not all of them are mentioned in the Harry Potter series. Like Harry and Ginny's wedding, George's reaction of Fred's death or Luna and her mother. Read, review and enjoy!
1. Wedding

**Author's note.**

**Alrighty, let's get started shall we?**

**This, dear reader, is a series of head canon oneshots that my insane brain decided to think up...**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (I would've thought that was pretty obvious)**

One.

Wedding.

It was the day he'd been looking forward to for at least five years now. The day he was going to marry Ginny Weasley.

The words that Ron had spoken to him earlier that morning rang through his mind 'don't mess it up, mate, people are watching,'

He was talking about the vows. Harry wondered why Ginny had insisted that they should write their own vows. It was highly suspicious, in his opinion. Neither Ginny nor Harry were what you would call "lovey-dovey" or "hopelessly romantic".

He'd spent _weeks _trying to find the right things to say. Ron was absolutely no help. Between "Just say you love her and something mushy about how you feel when you stare into her eyes." and "Why do you think I would help you? You're marrying my little sister!" or Harry's personal favourite: "Just drink some Firewhiskey before and see what comes out of your mouth. It'll be a laugh!"

So he went to Hermione. Why he hadn't done that in the first place was beyond him. She was more help then Ron, but in fairness, Ron still had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

He folded the sheet of parchment with what he was going to say on it in half, then quarters for what seemed like the millionth time.

'Merlin, mate, you weren't this nervous when you were fighting You- Voldemort,' Ron said, his ears turning red, embarrassed. He, like so many people, still couldn't say Voldemort's name.

'Yeah, well I didn't have an audience when I was fighting Voldemort,' Harry muttered.

Why was he so nervous? He loved Ginny. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Ginny. So why was he terrified?

But all worries or doubts faded from his mind when he saw the love of his life glide down the aisle, beaming a smile brighter than her flame coloured hair. He stared at her in awe, for a moment forgetting the crowds of people watching. But only for a moment. _I'm going to mess this up, _he thought miserably to himself. Just looking at her made him feel like a tongue tied sixteen year old again.

Harry ignored the minister, insted turning all his attention to the woman that was soon to be his wife. Ginny cleared her throat, he'd been staring. Just like his sixteen year old self.

'And now the vows,' the minister said, inclining his head towards Harry. This wasn't the minister that'd married Bill and Fleur, because he was also the one who'd done Dumbledore's funeral. They didn't want any reminders of their dead loved ones. Today was a day for happiness.

Even George was beaming with happiness and pride. The only sign that he was still grieving his dead twin was that he hadn't allowed anyone to sit on the chair to his left, because that was where Fred was supposed to be sitting. But there George was, grinning mischievously, waggling his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly.

'I've been warned,' he started, somewhat shaky, 'not to mess this up,'

There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd.

'I probably will though, so I apologise in advance,' he cleared his throat, listening to the only sound in the marquee apart from his own voice: many women sobbing. Tears of happiness, he hoped.

'I've never met anyone like you in my life. You're strong and kind and you do the best Bat-Bogey hex out of every wizard alive.'

Ginny smiled, that was something she took pride in.

'But aside from your obvious talent for amazing hexes, you're sill unlike anyone I've ever met. You have a talent for surprising me, you always do the opposite of what I think. And-' he glanced down at the floor, blushing slightly, '-I hope you'll keep surprising me for the rest of my life,'

The minister smiled at Ginny, who started to speak without a moment's hesitation.

'His eyes are s green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard,

I wish he was mine,

He's so divine,

The boy who conquered the Dark Lord.'

Instead of being stunned to silence, like he though he would be, he roared with laughter along with everyone else. _That _was why she'd wanted to do their own vows. Only one clear thought ran through Harry's head. They were perfect for each other.

**A/N FROM THE FUTURE! OOOHHHH!**

**Yes, I am writing this from the future.**

**Why? You may ask. It's because I was reading back on this story and was rather mortified by the poor standard of writing. It was a horror movie moment. So I decided to edit and rewrite this chapter a little bit, hopefully making it better (fingers crossed) **

**I promise that the chapters get better, they really, really do. **

**Please review.**

**THINGS GET BETTER, I PROMISE!**


	2. Together

**Author's Note.**

**Hi, me again! Jabbering insistently to you, hoping for reviews! (hint, hint, hint)**

**I forgot to mention, chapter 1 was: Romance, Ginny and Harry, Prompt: Wedding.**

**This chapter is about two of my favourite unsung heroes Frank and Alice Longbottom. I think that Neville's story is just as sad as Harry's, but J.K doesn't really talk about it as much as I would've liked (but, in fairness, that would've been a lot).**

**I like the Longbottoms because it reminds me that heroes come in all shapes and sizes, that they're not always what you'd expect, that sometimes, the heroes are the ones who aren't the stars of the show…**

**Please remember- I ALWAYS welcome any reviews, prompts, comments or suggestions!**

**So…. Here we go again!**

**Genre: Drama/Family**

**Characters: Frank and Alice Longbottom**

**Prompt: Together.**

**Disclaimer: I own the Harry Potter series! All of them, and the movies! Yes, I own them! Mwahahah! Wait… that could be construed as something altogether different than what I meant. I own them, yes, but I don't ****_own _****them. Confused? Let me explain: I own all of the books, they are in my bookcase, but JK Rowling OWNS them, like as in, they're HERS! Understand now? Teehee, admit it, just for a second there, you ACTUALLY thought ****_I _****was JK Rowling!**

Two

Together

'Neville's asleep,' Frank murmured, sitting down on the sofa next to his wife. He put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head against his chest.

She felt sad, isolated from the outside world, she hadn't been outside in _weeks. _

'Why us, Frank? Why did this have to happen to _us?_'

'I have no idea, but we aren't alone in this, Alice, remember that. And all of the Order is in hiding, too. Lily and James have a Fidelius charm on their house, too. Their son is the same age as Neville. But most importantly, we have each other, Alice, we're in this together,'

Alice smiled as her husband pressed his lips against her hair.

'When did you get so smart?' she teased.

'No idea,' he chortled, pleased his wife wasn't worried anymore.

But, just as she was comforted a patronus in the shape of a phoenix appeared in the middle of their cosy living room.

It spoke in Albus Dumbledore's calm, collected voice, 'the Fidelius charm has been broken, the Death Eaters are coming. They will be at your home in less than ten minutes. They have placed an anti-apparition charm on your household. You will have to fight.'

'Frank! Frank! We have to save Neville! They can't hurt Neville!'

Frank and Alice were perfect for each other: when she panicked, he kept a cool head, and vice versa.

'Give me a second, I'm trying to think. I… I remember reading…' he trailed off, rubbing his finger tips against his temples, eyes closed.

He began muttering, 'Law seventeen, paragraph three, subsection D… portkeys still are effective in places under anti-apparition charms! Yes! Alice, that's it! I'll make us a portkey! '

'No, Frank, just for Neville,' she looked up at her husband with all traces of panic gone, replaced with cool determination. There was a fierce gleam in her eyes, 'If we run, they'll find us. We are going to fight,'

Frank looked at Alice for a long moment, then nodded, he knew she was right. If they all ran, they'd come looking for them, putting more people in danger, but if they saved their son, stayed and fought… there could be less Death Eaters in the world.

'I'll make the portkey,' he said calmly.

She nodded. 'For your mother's. I'll write her a note,'

Dear Mrs Longbottom,

(Alice was, as usual, polite and considerate) _I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your evening, but the Death Eaters will be here soon and we don't want Neville in the middle of this fight. Please look after our son, he means the world to us. We may not make it out alive, but please, please, please take care of him for us. Thank you._

Alice and Frank x

Frank held his still slumbering baby in his arms. Baby Neville was clutching a teddy bear in his sleep, not aware this was the portkey that will save his life.

Alice tucked the letter into his baby-grow, pressing a kiss to his plump cheek. Frank did the same.

Only a minute later the teddy bear glowed blue and their son disappeared.

'He's safe now,' Alice murmured.

'We'll go out fighting, Alice,' Frank murmured, resting his forehead on hers, 'like we always do,'

She smiled, 'We'll go out fighting, _together,' _


	3. Invincible

**Hey! Chapter 3! Ok, so far I've gotten a grand total of... 1 review... from my friend in school... I very much apreciate that review, of course... but a few more... from someone I ****_don't _****know... is that so much to ask? I'm not trying to complain, of course, (but sadly, I ****_am _****complaining... oh well) but i want FEEDBACK! I want to know what you think, what you like, what you don't like, suggestions, prompts, ANYTHING! PLEASE? Please, please please, please, please etc.**

**Ok today's chapter is Voldemort, Horror+poetry, the prompt: Invincible.**

**Okeydokey, I'm writing, in poem formation, what i think Voldemort is feeling when he's making a horcrux... Angsty and angry... Oooh it IS fun to be evil!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red**

** Violets are blue**

** I don't own Harry Potter**

** So please don't sue!**

Three.

Invincible.

Breaking,

Shattering,

Slicing,

Ripping,

Tearing,

Strengthening

Pain,

Agony,

Torture,

Beautiful

Wondrous pain,

Beautiful torture,

Sweet agony,

Stronger

Stronger now,

Stronger than others,

Never to make my mother's mistake,

Of death

She died,

Didn't save herself,

Left me alone,

Alone.

All alone,

Without love,

Without friends,

Without family,

Family

Who needs family?

Hindrances,

Weaknesses,

Flaws,

Invincible

No one can stop me,

No one can _try_

Because

I

Have

Beaten

Death

Forever invincible.


	4. Unrequited love

**Hey!**

**Oh. My. Holy. God.**

**Five reviews !**

**(Was that too many exclamation points? Wait, what am I saying? There's no such thing as too many exclamation points!)**

**Anyhoo, thank you so friggin' much! That's so exciting! Teehee! I'm jumping up and down at the moment… with the laptop on my knees… ok, I'm jumping in my mind.**

**I'm taking the prompt from Namna-dono, (like I always will, honestly I WILL write your prompts)**

**So here we go again! As always please please please please please review! It makes my day! And also makes me squeal in a way that makes my sister worry about my sanity…..**

**This time, it's about Snape, who in my opinion is one of the most misunderstood characters in the HP series. i think he's just a heart-broken man, second best to the man whom he hated. It made him bitter and angry, but it didn't take away from the fact that, all along, he was there for Harry, even if he didn't know it...**

**Prompt: Unrequited love**

**Character: Snape**

**Genre: Romance, angst.**

**Disclaimer: The bottom statement is true**

** I don't own Harry Potter**

** The top two statements are false**

** …**

** …**

** …**

** …**

** …**

** …**

** CONFUSED MUCH?**

Three.

Unrequited love

Should it be this hard? Should it hurt this much? Should it send a wave of gut wrenching sorrow through my body every time I look at the James Potter look-alike?

It shouldn't, but it does.

And why? Because of those eyes. Those Lily Evans (I still hate saying Lily Potter) eyes.

Harry Potter. In my dungeon. Looking mildly bored. Just like his father. Arrogant. Careless. Self-centred. Vain. I know what this boy will be like, even without having to look at him. He will be exactly like James. Idiocy is hereditary. James's idiocy gene is the dominant one.

I hate him. I haven't had one conversation with the boy, and I hate him.

Why?

Is it because he resembles the man I hated?

Or is because he has the eyes of the woman I loved?

The woman I loved… and the man I hated… ugh! Their child is sitting in front of me.

I loved Lily, I truly loved her. More than anyone else in the world. And she chose Potter. Of course she chose Potter. The Quidditch star, the amazing James Potter! Ugh.

She hated him at first. _Hated _him. Just like me.

And then one day, out of the blue, she loved him. _Loved _him. I didn't. I still hated him. In fact, I hated him even more because he stole the woman I loved. He _stole _her.

So here I am, with the boy who represents love and hate, heaven and hell, good and bad.

Harry Potter.

The boy who lived. Yet another reason to hate him, he is alive and Lily is dead. She died to save him. She's dead because of him.

Is it wrong to blame him?

It's the Dark Lord's fault, that's what I have to tell myself.

"_If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear. You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son._"

So despite the fact that I already hate the Potter boy, and hope to make his life as hellish as his father made mine, I won't allow any harm to come to the boy.

Because I owe that much to Lily.

I owe it to the woman I love.


	5. Shine

**Hey! It's me again, it probably always WILL be me, unless my sister hacks my account... again...**

**My stories have been a wee bit angsty lately so I'm in the mood for some fluff. And who doesn't love fluff?**

**So… 6 reviews! Yay! If we could make it up to ten soon that'd be great! (If that was too subtle, please please please please please please please please please please please review!)**

**To the ****_Guest _****who reviewed, I'm not really sure what's not to "get" about the first three chapters, FYI they're not in order, if that's what's confusing you…**

**And also, I don't think I gave Voldemort too many emotions. I think I gave him the right amount, whatever Voldemort is, he's not a sociopath (a person without emotions). It's OBVIOUS he has emotions, because he wouldn't have made the horcruxes. He made them because he's afraid of dying, sociopaths don't have "fears"… so Voldemort is like an angry little child who's fears and grudges have made him into the most feared wizard of all time….**

**Anyhoo…**

**So… today I will be writing about easily one of my favourite characters from the Harry Potter series EVER, Luna Lovegood.**

**It's about Luna and her mother. I looked it up but I couldn't find Luna's mother's name, so I picked one for myself.**

**I chose Aditya (no idea how to pronounce that, but it means ****_sun _****and Luna means ****_moon _****so I thought it fitted well…)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I have asked for ownership of Harry Potter for Christmas. But until then (it**

**'s November) it's still JK Rowling's… sigh….**

Five

Shine

'Momma! Momma!' Two and a half year old Luna laughed to her mother as a fat gnome waddled across the garden.

'Look, momma, the funny little man is looking at me!'

'Yes, he is, isn't he?' She said absent-mindedly, flicking through the notes of her latest magical experiment.

'Momma! Look, look at me!'

Aditya looked up from her notes to smile at her daughter through the window, who was chasing the gnome around the garden, giggling wildly.

Luna gave up on her pursuit of the gnome, and skipped into the house, where her mother was working.

She stood at her mother's desk, looking interestedly at her notes. Even at five, she knew how different her parents were, her mother being a classic, brainy, book-worm Ravenclaw, and her father, a wild, believe-in-anything, open-minded Ravenclaw.

Luna was a perfect blend of the two.

Aditya, pushed her notes away from her, massaging her temples.

'Hello, little Luna,' she smiled.

'Momma,' she beamed, lifting her arms up to her mother, who laughed and pulled her daughter onto her lap.

'You're getting to big for this,'

Luna just laughed.

'Tell me a story,' Luna murmured.

'Hmm, now let me think… Oh! Have I told you the story of how we named you?'

Luna shook her head.

'All right, then.' her mother laughed

'When Daddy and I knew we were having a little baby girl, we knew we needed a special name for her, because she was going to be a special girl. We thought and thought and thought about it, but we couldn't decide. Nothing seemed to fit just right. Then, one night we were out in the garden, and we saw, up in the sky, glowing like a silver orb, the moon. And I said, 'Xeno, look at the moon,' I always loved the moon, it's so special, nothing else like it. When the sun goes down, the moon comes out to shine just as bright. 'Luna means moon,' I said to your father. We both liked Luna, it fit so well.'

'Loooona,' the little girl giggled sleepily.

'Is it nap-time, Luna?' she smiled.

She waited for an answer, but her daughter was already asleep.

She kissed the top of her daughter's head.

'You're going to shine brighter than anybody,'


	6. Pranksters

**Hi! I'm feeling hyper and giddy today, like I've eaten my weight in sugar (You will never know how much that is…)**

**So I'm channelling that… hyper-ness… into this fic.**

**As always thank you for your reviews, and review again… perhaps more than once…**

**And check out my Alice in Wonderland fic, its called "When Will They See?"**

**Also check out my awesome updates on my profile…**

**And, yes, that was an order. You just made the Unbreakable Vow, so you had best go check that out now….**

**Anyhoo, its Forge time! (Fred and George time)**

**YYYYYAAAAAYYYYYY!**

**I love Fred and George so freaking much, I sobbed for at least fifteen minutes when Fred died.**

**But this isn't going to be depressing (the depressing one is later, sorry, but I really want to write about George coping with his grief and loss…)**

**And just FYI, when they bewitched snowballs to hit Quirrell on the back of his turban, they were unknowingly hitting Voldemort in the face, they're epic like that!**

**Fred and George.**

**Pranksters.**

**Humour.**

**Read, review, enjoy, eat a bagel, review again!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Ich besitze Harry Potter nicht (German)**

**Ni líomsa Harry Potter.(Irish)**

**Non possiedo Harry Potter (Italian)**

**我没有自己的哈利****·****波特****(Chinese)**

**Je ne possède pas Harry Potter (French)**

**Nid wyf yn berchen ar Harry Potter (Welsh)**

**No soy dueño de Harry Potter (Spanish)**

**Δεν****είμαικύριοςΧάριΠότερ****(Greek)**

**मैं ही नहीं है हैरी पॉटर ****(Hindi)**

**私はハリーポッターを所有していない****(Japanese)**

**Eu não possuo Harry Potter (Portugese)**

**(Sorry if any of these are not right, I used Google translate…)**

Six

Pranksters.

Fred and George thought they were the two best pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen. Until, one day, they realised, they were in the shadow of two others. Sirius Black and James Potter.

The news of their inadequacy was met with horror, upset, and the destruction of George's entire Chocolate Frog card collection.

'I… I always thought we were the best,' Fred said after watching his twin rip his last card into shreds.

George dumped himself inelegantly onto his bed.

'Or worst,' he sighed, 'How many teachers have told us we are the worst trouble makers in the history of Hogwarts? How many times has Filch said we'll be the death of him, how many?' he demanded.

'So many, so very, _very _many,' Fred shook his head.

'And now, Hagrid just _had _to burst our bubble, and tell us that James and Sirius were better!'

'I think he was just saying it to upset us, I mean we _did _turn his beard pink…'

'But what if he's not?'

'Then we'll have to up the anti, brother,' Fred grinned.

And that's just what they did.

The twenty fireworks in the girls' bathroom… the colour changing potion in the showers (purple truly _was _Oliver Wood's colour)… the transfiguration of Professor Snape's cauldron into an cage of canaries… and then opened the cage (two weeks of detention)… the release of every animal in McGonagall's classroom… the fifty pixies in History of Magic (Professor Binns didn't even notice)… they painted each crystal ball in Divination, so no-one could see their 'future', switched the tea leaves to teabags and made the models of the planets orbit around Professor Trelawny's head… the jinxed water-balloon fight, with the assistance of Peeves, that made at least 70% of the students wet from head to toe… And all of this in the space of two weeks.

'Well, how do you think we did?' Fred whispered to George in the first of Snape's detentions.

'All right, I guess, but we need something… more…'

'I don't know, Oliver's still that lovely shade of violet…'

'True, and he's far less popular with the ladies now…'

'But I understand what you mean, a grand finale, that's what we need…'

'Yeah a piece-de-resistance, if you will,'

'Couldn't have said it better myself, brother,'

'We are going to be in so much trouble!' Fred said gleefully to George.

'_So _much trouble,' George agreed in excitement.

'Ok. You got the Amortentia?'

'Yep!'

'This is going to be hilarious,'

'I know! Your best idea yet, my brother,'

'Oh, you flatter me, George,' Fred said, pretending to blush, 'And besides, it couldn't have been easy stealing that potion, after all, the most powerful love potion in the world would've been hard to get your hands on,'

'Oh, stop it, Fred!' George also pretended to blush.

'Ok, enough joking around, we need to be serious,'

'Right, ok,'

They made their way to the portrait of the bowl of fruit, and tickled the pear to gain access to the house-elfs' kitchen. It was ten minutes before dinner, so they were cutting their time pretty short.

They had a plan, like all good pranksters.

'I'm _so _hungry!' George complained loudly.

As was expected, he was crowded by almost every house elf in the room, giving Fred time to slip over to the teachers' table and pour a drop of love potion into the teachers' food platters.

They slipped out of the kitchens minute later, George laden down with food.

'Come on, can't miss this!' Fred said excitedly.

They sat down in the Great Hall a few minutes before the food appeared.

All of the Gryffindor students, and most of the others ,were looking up at the teacher's table with anticipation, the twins had been advertising their 'ultimate practical joke' for the past few nights, and it spread around the castle like wildfire.

Ten minutes later things began to happen.

Snape was chasing Professor Sinistra around the Great Hall, obviously desperate for a kiss, Sinistra, in turn was doing the same to Hagrid, who was near tears of joy and awe at the mere sight of Professor Vector. McGonagall and Dumbledore were staring dreamily into each other's eyes. Professor Trelawny was proclaiming at the top of her lungs that she and Professor Flitwick's "fates were intertwined" apparently "it was obvious by the way Venus and Uranus were crossing paths". Filch and Madam Pomfrey were snogging. Professor Sprout was in tears because whenever she went to kiss Professor Binns, she passed right through him.

The two months of detention, Howler from Mrs. Weasley and scolding from each and every thoroughly humiliated Hogwarts professor was entirely worth it, when Hagrid said they had claimed the title of Howart's greatest ever pranksters.


	7. Belonging

**What is up my readers?**

**11 reviews! Holy crap! Ok, you're probably looking at the review count, seeing the number "9" and questioning my sanity, but seriously, count them MANUALLY (like they did in the olden days) and you will get the number 11.**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! You've made me the happiest of whatever my species is in the whole entire world (But *hint, hint* that doesn't mean stop reviewing…..)**

**Okeydokey, I just want to let you, my darling readers, know that I will write your prompts, for example, ilovelollypops1 asked for more of Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione's relationships and I ****_will _****write them (next chapter or the one after, I promise). I will write them, I pinkie swear.**

**Anyhoo, Hermione time! Yes, it is ****_indeed _****time for the one and only Hermione Granger! This girl is my hero, mainly because we share the same hair, like, seriously, movie 3, could be twins… So basically, this chapter is about what I think her life was like before Hogwarts…**

**Read, enjoy, review, bask in the happy feeling that you just made some random Fanfiction writer's day, repeat!**

**Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say it? I. Do. Not. Own. Harry. Potter. Get it into your head! (teehee, pretending to be angry is fun)**

Chapter 7.

Belonging.

Hermione looked out the window, tears silently streaming down her face.

'Nerd,'

'Swot,'

'Geek,'

'Show-off,'

'Freak,'

'Know it all,'

All of these had been thrown at her over the course of the day. Oh, people could be sweet as sugar when they wanted to be. But that was always when they wanted her do help them with their homework. Apar from that, cruel words were thrown at her, for being smart, for having busy hair and big front teeth, for anything really. She wouldn't tell a soul but this hurt her. It hurt her feelings, it hurt her pride. SHe didn't let on, of course, she couldn't give people the satisfaction of letting them know what they said hurt her.

'Hermione?' her mother's voice called, 'dinner's ready!'

Hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks, she left her room and went to join her parents at the dinner table.

'So, how was school, darling?' Her mother asked, smiling, trying her best to hide her concern. Her teachers, while always unable to find fault in her grades, told them, at her parent-teacher conferences, that she didn't "mingle well with the other students". This had them worried.

'Great, mum,' Hermione beamed, knowing fully well her mother was worried about her,

Hermione knew she was… different… she'd _always _known she was different, not just that she was smarter than everyone but strange… things always happened to her like when three other girls were tearing out the pages of her History notebook, throwing the pages all around the classroom, the pages kept reappearing as though they hadn't just been thrown around the place. Or the time when she somehow ran through a solid brick wall, while being chased by some other girls in her class. She thought it was a brain-reflex, or something. She remembered reading in moments of adreniline or fear, our brains can muddle up some details, or make you forget entirely.

'It's your birthday soon,' Her father said, 'maybe you could invite some friends over, for a party?'

'I don't know Dad, I mean, everybody might be, um… busy,' she said lamely, wishing that he hadn't said anything at all.

'Well, just keep it in mind, dear,' her mother said with false cheeriness.

'I will, mum,' Hermione promised, already knowing she wouldn't have a party if some one were to pay her.

'I'm going to do my home work,' She announced, when the agonisingly long dinner was over.

She returned to her bedroom, the lump in her throat that had been there throughout the entire dinner made her feel like she was choking.

She sat next to the window, resting her forehead against the cold glass. The sun had set; it was dark out; the sky looked like navy velvet.

The tears ran down her face again, thicker this time.

Glancing up at the star studded sky, she made a wish.

A wish for people to like her for who she was; for bullies to leave her alone; for friends; for a place where she belonged.

She received her Hogwarts letter a week later, and her wish came true.


	8. Meet the Parents

**Hey (bom-bom-bom got any ****_grapes?_****) sorry, every time someone says "hey," I either sing Call Me Maybe" or the "Duck song" I'm awesome like that…**

**I'm updating today because I'm bored… so bored… so very, very bored…**

**This chapter is about Teddy and Victoire (chorus of ****_aww_****)**

**I think they make an adorable couple, I think she's all flirtatious and confident and he's all clumsy and sweet. Hence, the perfect couple, 'cos they're opposites. **

**Review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review… (I don't know the ****_meaning_**** of the word "deperate"!)**

**So, this is humour and romance (yes, a rom-com!), Teddy and Victoire, Prompt: Meet the Parents.**

**Disclaimer: When I rule the world, I WILL own Harry Potter, but until then…**

Eight.

Meet the parents.

'Teddy bear?' Victoire smiled sweetly, 'Would you do something for me?'

'Anything,' Teddy promised grandly, he was incapable of saying "no" to her when she was smiling like she was.

'You promise?' she questioned, batting her eyelashes at him.

'I promise,' he assured her, already feeling like he'd gotten himself into something terrifying.

They'd been going out for a year, since Victoire was sixteen and he was eighteen. He'd asked her, in his shy, stuttering, blushing way, if she "might want to go to Hosmeade sometime?"

'Sure, when?' she'd replied.

'I- uh- I meant as in- a- uh- date. I meant, do you want to go on a date with me?' he'd stuttered.

'I knew _exactly _what you meant,' she'd beamed.

Their date had gone well, mainly because Victoire was, well, _Victoire, _anything she did was perfect in Teddy's eyes. At the end of easily the best night of Teddy's life so far, he kissed her, blushed, apologised, blushed some more. Then _she _kissed _him, _told him to "quit being a shy git" and flounced away, yelling over her shoulder that if he "didn't ask her out again, she'd set the family ghoul on him"

So things were perfect for the two of them, both of them hardly able to believe they had someone so wonderful in their lives.

'I want you to meet my parents,' Victoire stated, still smiling in the way she knew made him blush, or stutter, or fall over.

He did none of those things, just stared at her for a moment.

'Seriously?'

'Yes, seriously!' she exclaimed.

'You want me to meet you curse-breaker father, and Twi-wizard champion, quarter-Veela mother?'

'Yes. You promised,'

'I guess I did,' he muttered.

'So will you? Please, Teddy bear?' she wheedled.

'Fine,' he said, unable to say no.

'Yay!' she squealed, 'Mama will be so happy she's _dying _to meet you!'

'Great,' he said, somewhat hollowly, already afraid.

So, two days later, they arrived at Shell Cottage.

'Anything I should know?' Teddy said anxiously.

'What do you mean?' Victoire asked, raising her delicate eyebrows.

'As in, anything I _shouldn't _do or say?'

'Hmm, nothing that springs to mind. If all else fails, you can change your appearance and we can try again in a few months!' She laughed.

'Or I could change my appearance and flee the country,' he pointed out.

'I'd follow you,' she stated boldly. That was Victoire, dramatic and fiercely loyal.

'How will you find me. I could be anyone!'

'I'll know,' she said simply.

Teddy ran a hand through his hair nervously. He felt terrified. And stupid _because _he felt terrified.

He remembered Bill from his childhood, and a few of his teenage years, but had taken to avoiding him when he realised just how in love he was with his daughter. So from age sixteen then. But still, his was very, _very _different, he was being introduced as Victoire's _boyfriend _for crying out loud, that would make any father wary… or violent…

'Teddy!' Victoire exclaimed, beginning to laugh; he'd turned his hair magenta through nerves.

'Aw, dammit,' he muttered, squinting his eyes shut and desperately hoping his hair would look normal.

'Lovely,' Victoire commented, his hair had returned to a nice shade of honey brown.

'Let's get this over with, then,' he sighed.

Victoire rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him.

'For luck,' she smiled.

He caught onto her hand and pulled her back to him, 'I think I'm gonna need more luck,' he murmured, before kissing her again.

Bill and Fleur greeted them at the door.

'Bonjour,' He said, smiling nervously.

'Ah! Bonjour!' Fleur began speaking in rapid French, to which all Teddy could do was gape at her.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for and answer.

'Oh, uh, sorry, I um, only know _bonjour_,' he stuttered nervously.

'Ah, I see,' she laughed, 'well, eet eez lovely to meet you, Teddy,'

'You too,' he smiled.

He turned to Bill, smiling slightly. Bill spoke before he had a chance.

'I still remember the day your father came here, telling everyone his wife had just given birth to a boy.' he said, his blue eyes boring into Teddy's hazel ones. 'I've never seen him so happy,'

Teddy nodded, a lump in his throat.

'They were so proud of you,'

He nodded again, not sure what else to do.

By then end of the night, Teddy wondered why he'd been worried in the first place. Victoire's parents were kind and funny, didn't threaten to hex or jinx or curse him, which was good.

'Did you enjoy that?' Victoire asked, as they sat in the garden under the moon light.

'Yeah, I guess I did,' he chuckled.

'See!' she exclaimed, 'Meeting my parents was a _good _idea!'

'Yeah,' he murmured, 'I just wish you could've met mine,'

'Me too, Teddy bear, me too,'

She pressed her lips to his one more time.


	9. Silent Screams

**Hey. Its me. You probably don't remember who I am. I am the crappy fan fiction writer who hasn't updated in ages. I am also sorry, if that helps. It probably doesn't. So I'm sorry. I don't know what's happened to me. Oh, wait, yep, that's it. Homework is what happened to me. So blame my teachers (I do on a regular basis, for all of my minor failures eg "ugh, I have to get more exercise, wait, I forgot, its all the teachers fault I can't run for more than five minutes without collapsing" try it, it's fun…)**

**So anyway as a reward to you delightful people (yeah, you know I'm talking to you) I'm posting what I hope will be… (this is the typing equivalent of a drumroll) an amazing chapter (yup, that was pathetic, I know, God, what is ****_with _****me? Oh, yeah, yeah, that's right, teachers. All their fault.)**

**So today, its all angsty, which is major fun for all the family! Oh, angst, how I love thee…**

**So, here we go!**

**Review review review review review review review review review review review etc… please? They make me so happy! You could be the 15th person who reviews, or, if you wanted, you could be the 20th, of course that would mean more reviews...**

**Also check out my fic for Matched… or not… I guess you ****_don't _****want your mind blown, ok, fine by me….**

**Genre: angst, family**

**Characters: George, Arthur**

**Prompt: Silent screams.**

**Disclaimer: If I said I own Harry Potter and you believed me, we would both be idiots…**

Silent Screams.

He was screaming in his sleep again. Every night his name. Always his name. _Always his name. _

Molly lost patience one night, and driven by her own grief, I assumed, screamed at him that calling for him won't bring him back. Nothing will bring him back. He's gone. Forever. Then they sobbed in each other's arms.

I think this has affected George more than anyone else. I _know _this affected George more than anyone else. He was his twin, his partner in crime, his other half. Its like a part of him is missing, the most important part. The part that had the will to live.

I rushed into George's room.

'Fred? _Fred? _NO! don't- _don't_! No, _Fred_, no, don't! Come back, come _back_! Don't leave me! _You can't leave me!'_

My son's face is twisted into a bitter mask of agony, an expression I'd never seen on his face until Fred died. But the first time it appeared on his face, it never left.

'George. George? Come on, Georgie, wake up,' I shook him gently, remembering the time that he thought I was Death Eater and tried to strangle me. He was upset about that afterwards, so I tried to be gentle for his sake as well as mine.

He woke with a start. And, as usual, began to sob.

After the war, he returned to his and Fred's apartment over their shop. He said he wanted some alone time.

We visited one day, to make sure he was alright. The entire shop had been trashed; every product ripped to shreds or shattered; countless scorch marks on the walls; all the furniture broken; the walls dented and- we're not sure how he did it- there were several holes that reached all the way to the outside wall. And George himself was in worse condition. He wasn't alright. Why did we think he would be alright? Was it because he said he would be fine, and we were desperate to believe him? Or was it because we were consumed in our own grief to see his obvious lie. Anyway, after that we insisted for him to move back into the Burrow.

'Stop waking me up, Dad,' George muttered now.

'Why?' I whispered, wondering why he wanted to be trapped in his nightmares.

'I can see him, Dad, right in front of me. Then you wake me up,'

Then it hit me: he wasn't crying because of the dream, he was crying because it was gone.

He could see Fred in his sleep and he cherished his nightmares, probably thinking Fred would be taken away from him again. He would rather the torturous nightmares than forget his brother.

I sighed, unsure of what to say or do.

'I know, Georgie, but this… this isn't the way to remember him. You can't just _let _yourself have these nightmares,'

'But, dad-'

'No, George, is this what Fred would of wanted? Would he have wanted you to just… give up?'

George reluctantly shook his head, scowling.

'Remember when you guys were eleven, and you filled Percy's school trunk to the brim with fake spiders.'

'Then all the spiders came to life,' George said with a hollow smile. A bitter remembrance of his old one.

'And Percy threatened to murder you,' I smiled nostalgically.

'Tried to, Dad? He got a knife from the kitchen and chased us with it,' his eyes were slightly brighter.

'See, Georgie, you've got to remember _that _stuff, not… not,' I took a deep breath, not sure how to finish.

'I know, Dad,' he muttered, looking up at me.

He didn't scream in his sleep from that night on. But the silent screams, inside his head, the ones we couldn't hear, were the ones that scared me the most.

Because I can't help him with those ones, the ones he keeps locked up inside himself, the ones he tells no one about. The screams that ricochet around his head for hours on end, that twist his face into that bitter mask of agony. The ones that remind him of not only his brother's death, but everyone else's.

My son hasn't been the same after the war. But then, I can't think of a single person who has.


	10. Thank You

**HEY! Its me, hyper and het up on sugar! As per usual…**

**Believe it or not, my super-mega-awesome-wonderful-amazing readers:**

**WE HAVE REACHED 15 REVIEWS!**

**(may we have a moment of silence to appreciate just how ****_epic _****that is!… … … … … … … MOMENT OVER )**

**Wow, just… wow, that is so amazing, so. Freaking. Amazing.**

**So I decided to thank you all:**  
**thank you to:**  
**Bazingababy: (epic name, truly just epic, I gather you, like me, are a Sheldon Cooper fan. (and if you're not this is just plain awkward…))**

**Guest:… um yeah, you have a cool name too…**

**Ilovelollypops1: yes, we Irish are truly amazing**

**Digi Yo: Aw, thank you!**

**Guest: are you the same guest as before, or an entirely different Guest?**

**Mooray: Thank you so much!**

**Asymmetricalpasta03: Thanks, I was actually not really that sure about that poem, but what you said was so sweet.**

**And as always: Namnadono- Thanks for everything!**

**Yes, I am indeed a sentimental weirdo, deal with it…**

**Ok, next goal: twenty reviews! That would be great!**

**So today, I am writing about one of my favourite characters (I know I say that a lot but its pretty dang hard to pick just one) Hagrid. I'm trying a letter for this one, as opposed to a story or poetry layout, tell me what you think, I can write more!**

**So here we go!**

**Harry and Hagrid**

**Friendship, family**

**Prompt: Thank you**

Thank You.

Dear Hagrid,

How are things? How are the Skrewts, are they doing well (I still can't believe you got more of those things).

I'm writing this letter for two reasons, one, a warning, and two, a thank you.

I'll start with the warning. My eldest son, James, is going to be attending Hogwarts in a month's time. Good luck. He is more trouble than my father, godfather and his twin uncles combined. He has the James-and-Sirius and Fred-and-George vibe going for him. Let me know if he finds his partner in crime when he arrives.

Warnings aside, I want to thank you. James got his letter yesterday, and it reminded me about how I got mine.

If my memory serves me correctly, you bashed down the door, threatened my uncle, gave me my first birthday cake and my cousin a pig's tail (easily the best birthday present I've ever received) and told me I'm a wizard. You were the coolest person I'd ever met. And the kindest, most generous, thoughtful and brave.

You were my first ever friend. The first ever person to believe in me, the first person to think I'm worth something, not just a waste of space.

But you did even more than that: you got _me _believing that I'm important, that I'm worth something. I don't know where I'd be now if you didn't.

I want to say thank you, for that. For changing my life in so many ways. Not only did you open my eyes and introduce me to the wizarding world, you made me the person I am today.

No one is braver than you, Hagrid. You have more courage than anyone I've ever known. You have the sort of courage that I think is stronger than any magic I know. The sort of relentless, loyal, headstrong courage that I've only seen in a handful of people.

Rita Skeeter once asked me if you were a father substitute, and in so many ways, you are. I would be so proud to be your son. You taught me not only all about almost every magical creature known to man (and some I'm pretty sure only you know about) but how to be a good person. You did this without having to say a word, just your actions were enough to teach me what it is that makes a person who they are and who they should be. And in your case, you should never be anyone but yourself.

You have never been afraid to be yourself, never been less than who you are. I respect you so much for that. People may treat you differently for being who you are, but you never let that stop you, not for long, anyway.

So thank you Hagrid, for being nothing short of my role model, my fill-in father, my first friend, and one of my best friends, words cannot express how big a part of my life you are.

From,

Harry.

P.s, Good luck with James, you're going to need it.


	11. Hat

Heya my readers. Once again, sorry for the wait for this chapter, but as per usual, I blame the teachers.

I, much like the Three wise men, come bearing three gifts. (some aren't necessarily… gifts, as such, but still, I'm in full on Christmas mode right now)

So, first: I come bearing bad news. Christmas exams are upon me so I will be unable to update for a while maybe a week and a bit… sorry…

Second: I come bearing a plea: I NEED prompts, ideas, help! I'm _begging!_I have a limited amount of ideas in my head, and I _need _your help! Please!

Third: as always, I come bearing thanks. Lots and lots of thanks. Enough to cancel out my bad news? Maybe not.

Wish me luck in my exams!

Here we go again!

Prompt: hat.

Sorting hat.

Angst, poetry

Disclaimer: Soon, very, very soon, I will own Harry Potter. It's nearly Christmas, and it's on my list. Until then… still J K Rowling's… sigh…

Chapter 11.

Hat.

I hate my job

H A T E

Take away that magic E

And-

Hat

T**hat**'s me

Hat.

Sorting _hat_

Choosing _hat_

Please-no-I-don't-want-to-be-in-Hufflepuff-_hat_

Wonder why I _hat_e it?

I d_i_v_i_d_e.

Divide-and-conquer

Only I don't WANT to conquer.

Unity

Is

Key.

Imagine no

Slytherin

Would there be no evil?

No.

It would be_*

*hidden

No

Gryffindor?

Would

everyone _be a COWARD?_

No.

They would be i!n!v!i!s!i!b!l!e!

My job has worth, I know that.

But I still hate it.

S…l…y…t..h…e…r…i…n…s…

Sided with the Dark Lord

While the others stayed _loyal._

To Hogwars.

We **_ALL _**belong in Hogwarts.

So why do we s-e-p-e-r-a-t-e?

To show we're all **d**i_f_ferEn!t?

To show we're only as good as where we belong?

You're the scared, timid, Gryffindor.

Ostracized.

Rejected.

Why did I put you there?

Because I see your BRAVERY.

No one else, can.

Notevenyou…

Shudda-been-in-Hufflepuff-not-Gryffindoor-material.

Would it have been kinder to you, to put you in Hufflepuff?

You're the Ravenclaw who gets a _P _in Charms.

Why did I put you there?

Because I saw the world through YOUR EYES.

It was illuminating.

But no-o-o-o-o-o-o.

No-o-o-o-one else can see it.

So you're

weird

Odd

I can only say:

You

Will

Be

Great

One

Day

You're the Slytherin who is p^a^s^s^i^v^e

So you're

Pickpickpicked on.

I can only say:

I saw your AMBITION

But it was ambition to create

Unity

…

…

…

Something I can't make.

I hatehatehatehate my job.  
I create c%h*a!o s out of peace.

I wonder it the Founders saw this flaw.

They're only HUMAN.

I'm a HAT.

A hat who has to make choices.

Choices that I

D

O

U

B

T

Every sec-sec-second of my life.


	12. Crumple Horned Snorkack

Hey, my readers! Guess what, guess what, guess what? Two more reviews and we'll've reached 20! Oh my god! Woop! Yay!… other expressions of happiness! So, that being said… um… could I please have two more reviews before the next chapter, it would make my day!

Also, only two more exams for me, art and English! So that means practically no more studying, which means more updating for you!

Also, six more days til Christmas!

Is anyone else as happy as I am right now?

I'm squeaking with happiness right now! Some smile, I squeak… anyway…

So today, I'm writing about Luna and Rolf. Aren't they just the _ultimate _couple? Like, they are at the top of the scale of which all other couples are measured… but that's just _my _opinion. Let me know if you agree! Or if you disagree, or what your all-time-favourite-Harry-Potter-couple is!

Luna and Rolf.

Romance, friendship, humour.

Prompt: Crumple Horned Snorkack.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do, on the other hand own my very own magic wand… some call it a twig from a tree, I call it a wand… sigh…

'Luna Lovegood, the Quibbler, our readers are wondering why… oh, my, those Nargles are making my brain so _fuzzy_ today,'

The young woman with the tangled blond hair sat down dreamily, waiting for the Nargles to stop bothering her so she would remember her question.

She was at a press conference, for the release of a new book about magical creatures by Rolf Scamander. She was there to question him about the lack of information about the Crumple Horned Snorkack, for Daddy, who was going to write a slanderous and ridiculing article about him in the next issue of the Quibbler.

'Nargles, did you say?' the man, Rolf, asked, standing up abruptly, 'those pesky creatures have been bothering me all day!' he exclaimed, beginning to rummage through a large, battered briefcase, the one that never matched the eclectic mish-mash of clothes that he was wearing.

He pulled out a pair of iridescent, large spectacles, that were identical to the ones the woman was now wearing.

He hastily put them on, as though this were a life or death matter.

'Oh, simply _terrible! _There are _hundreds _here!' he exclaimed, sounding thoroughly distressed. 'right, everybody out!' his voice took on a brisk, firm quality. 'We'll have to continue elsewhere,'

That was met with confusion and outrage. All of the newspapers, magazines and newsletters had sent their best reporters to question him. His book was pure brilliance, said by many to be even better than Newt's own original _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. _

After a few minutes of Rolf's insistent pleas for everybody to leave, the room was finally clear of all people but himself and Luna.

'Do you think we should get rid of them?' Luna asked dreamily.

'Of course,' He smiled, a crooked, crazy grin of a man not entirely "all-there in the head".

He delved back into the brief case. 'Oh, blast,' he said, I forgot the potion, I almost always have it with me!'

'Don't worry,' Luna assured him, pulling a bottle with a spray-cap out of a patchwork bag, and beginning to spray the air.

'Where did you get that? I can only get that in the darkest parts of Knockturn alley, and deal with many very shady folks to get it',' he asked enthusiastically.

'I make it myself,' she said, continuing to spray the air.

'You _do?' _he exclaimed, 'Marvellous!'

She blushed, 'Thank you,'

She continued to spray the air until all the Nargles were gone.

They sat down in the empty chairs in absolute silence, still wearing their technicolor glasses.

'Oh!' she exclaimed suddenly, so out of the blue that Rolf jumped.

'What? Are there more?'

'No, no! I remember my question!'

'Oh, of course! Please, I want to hear it!'

'Why don't you write about the Crumple Horned Snorkack?'

'Oh, I wanted to!' he exclaimed, 'But my editor said they were too inconspicuous!'

'They're shy!'

'That was what I said!' he exclaimed in agreement.

'Have you ever seen one?'

'Once,' He grinned his madman grin.

'You did?' her voice was awed.

'Yes, two of them, a mother and her baby. The baby was tiny, and it had no horn, not yet,'

'They grow them when they're in adolescence,' Luna said knowledgeably.

He nodded in agreement.

'My father is going to write an awful review of your book, you know,' she said.

'He is?' Rolf sounded as though his was thoroughly enjoying himself.

'Yes,' Luna nodded seriously.

'You're writing for the… Quibbler, was it?'

'Yes,'

'I _love _the Quibbler! In…in your last issue… yes, I have it here-' he'd delved back into his briefcase and produced the latest edition of the Quibbler, then turned to a bookmarked page.

'I wrote that one,' she murmured, it was the fluff piece she'd written on the Pygmy Puff's favourite songs to sing on Boxing Day.

'I loved it, I had no idea that they could reach the pitch of _Walking in the air,' _

'Oh, yes,' Luna said enthusiastically, 'They can vary from soprano to bass,' she nodded matter-of-factly.

'The Crumple Horned Snorkack I saw was humming to her child.'

'Really?' she asked softly.

'Yes,' he murmured, gazing into her silvery-grey eyes.

'Daddy,' Luna said breathlessly, arriving back at her house an hour or so later, 'you _can't _write that bad review about Rolf Scamander!'

'Why not, Luna, dear,'

'Why, he's simply the most wonderful man I've ever met!' she exclaimed.


	13. Danny Boy

**Hey readers! How are we all? Did you have a good Christmas? Lots of food and fun and family?**

**And it's nearly the new year! 2013! Whoop!**

**Well, today, my dear reader (why yes, I am in a good mood.) which is odd, because I just wrote a depressing chapter… for some reason it's fun to be depressing (if any of you are therapists don't look too deep into that, ok?)**

**On a cheerful note, it's about two of the bestest characters ever, my heroes and *cough cough* complete obsessions… … … … what was I talking about? Oh, yeah! Seamus and Neville!**

**Well, I love Seamus because he's Irish, therefore, amazing!**

**And I love Neville, because, well he's Neville for crying out loud, what's not to love?**

**So, before you read the chapter I spent hours writing for you (this is about the 7****th**** rewrite, yeah, I know!) I once again, ask for your oh-so lovely prompts and ideas (I have received requests for a Draco chapter, it'll come up next: D)**

**So please, read, review, enjoy!**

**Characters: Seamus and Neville**

**Prompt: Danny boy**

**Genre: Angst, hurt, comfort.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the song: Danny Boy…**

_Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling… from glen to glen and down the mountainside… the summers gone and the flowers are dying…_

Someone was calling my name. I ignored them. Crying isn't something you want your friends to see you doing.

I hastily shoved the letter from my mother into my robes.

'Seamus?' It sounded like Neville.

I dragged the back of my hand across my eyes, the looked at my sleeve. Blood mingled with the tears.

Neville stumbled into the dormitory.

'I was looking for you,' he said.

'I've been here the whole time, mate,' I said, pointedly looking in the opposite direction.

He nodded, then, ignoring the fact that I _obviously _didn't want to have a deep, meaningful conversation, he sat down on the bed opposite mine. Dean's bed. That didn't help my unhappy mood.

'Seamus?' He eyed the long, deep gashes on my face with horror. 'Who…who did that?'

'These?' I asked airily, 'I fell, mate, you know me, too much fire whiskey,' I forced an unconcerned laugh. I wasn't even fooling myself.

'Seamus, who did this to you?' his voice wavered less, sounded more confident.

'This? This is nothing, you should see the other guy!' my vain attempt of bravado was pitiful.

'Seamus.' there was warning in his tone.

'Neville,' I said in the same tone, 'You're being an eejit, I'm grand,'

What he did next surprised me; he drew his wand and pointed it at me.

'Tell me, Seamus,'

I drew my own wand, only to have it fly out of my hand. He'd disarmed me. _Neville _disarmed me.

He prodded my chest with the tip of his wand.

'Tell me, Finnigan,'

Finnigan?

Well, that was new.

'Why should I, Longbottom?'

'Because I deserve to know, _that's _why,'

'Ah, here now, leave it out,' I said exasperatedly. 'I'm not telling you,'

'You may not have a choice,' he said through gritted teeth.

'Are you threatening me?'

'I guess I am,' his said boldly.

'What's happened to you, Neville? What happened to the boy who couldn't disarm a first year, eh?'

'He grew up, Finnigan,' he spat out through his teeth.

'I can see that.' I sighed. I wasn't going to win this fight, and I had no idea why it was Neville I was taking my anger out on, anyway.

I sat down on my bed.

'The Carrows, are you happy now, Longbottom?'

'Not really, Seamus-' I noted the renewed use of my first name- 'Why did they do that?'

'I asked them how many innocent kids they killed,' I said matter-of-factly.

'You didn't,' he groaned, sitting down, too and putting his wand away.

'I did.' I confirmed.

'Seamus, there's standing up for yourself and then there's picking a fight,'

'Yeah, well, they needed to be put in their place,'

He nodded thoughtfully.

'Accio essence of murtlap,' he muttered.

A bottle soon zoomed into the room.

'I think this will help,' he murmured.

I hoped it would, my face stung. Five, deep, long gashes ran across my face: one over each eyebrow, one on each cheek, and my forehead.

'Are you all right?' he asked suddenly after a few minutes of silence.

'Yeah, they don't hurt too bad.' I lied.

'No… I mean, are _you _all right, you seem… I dunno, rattled or something.'

'It's nothing, really, just something Alecto said.'

'What did she say?'

'Just some stuff about half-bloods,' I muttered.

'Oh,'

_'In a way, half-bloods are even worse than mud-bloods. Does anyone know why?' Alecto asked the class, leering._

_No one said anything. We'd learned by then that answering her questions was one of the stupidest things you could do._

_'No one? Well, I guess I'm going to have to tell you, then, won't I? Half bloods are just as bad as mud-bloods because their parents had a child with a _muggle_! Isn't that just _disgusting_? Imagine, raising these half-blooded _freaks_ with a non-magical parent! I think, when the Dark Lord is in full control, that he'll get rid of all these… mutations, won't that be lovely?'_

_'Hey, Alecto?' I asked, not being able to take another second of this, standing up, 'You're a Death Eater, right? Well, I've been meaning to ask for ages, how many innocent kids have you killed?'_

_There was about two seconds of stunned silence before:_

_'_Crucio_!'_

'That was…' Neville trailed off.

'Stupid?' I supplied.

He pulled a face, 'I was going to say brave, but stupid works, too,'

I rolled my eyes.

'Why did you do that?'

'_I'm _a half-blood. She was insulting my family; I needed to stand up for myself,'

The words from my mother's letter rang through my mind.

'That's what we need to be doing,' he muttered to himself. He stood abruptly.

'_Genius, _Seamus,' he grinned happily, then left the room.

Not a week later, Neville stood up in _his _Muggle studies class, and asked how much muggle blood Alecto had. Ginny, according to Neville, told Amycus that she'd been doing some research and found a few muggles in his family tree, and asked what they were doing there.

I had the funny feeling that I'd started something that I hadn't meant to start. I wasn't the only one with gashes and cuts and bruises adorning my body, the only one who had to take the Cruciatus Curse every now and again.

I asked Neville what he was trying to achieve, one night, after Luna had just arrived in the Great Hall from a detention with a smile on her face, the words "Half-bloods and muggle-borns are vermin" etched into her hand and the news that she had just "successfully cast the Confundus Charm on both the Carrows, then told them to play with the house elves. Which they did."

'We're standing up for ourselves, Seamus, just like Harry, just like you.' Neville told me.

I sighed, this _was _my fault.

'There's standing up for yourself, and then there's picking a fight,' I quoted him.

'_We're _standing up for ourselves,' he informed me, before falling asleep. I suppose losing half of your blood in less than an hour would take it out of you.

I opened the letter from my mother again. I'd done this so many times, the parchment was getting worn.

Dear Seamus,

How're things? I know it must be hard, being in Hogwarts, when it's not really Hogwarts anymore.

You have a smart mouth, always had, always will, like your father. I _normally _would tell you not to say anything to get yourself into trouble, but for once, I'm telling you to do the opposite.

I know you'll stand up for what you believe in, you're a Finnigan, after all.

You're fighting just as hard as any Auror out there, I know it, you and your friends are fighting a war all of your own.

Remember the song I used to sing to you, whenever you couldn't sleep? Danny Boy. It's about a parent whose son goes off to war. It reminds me of you.

Be brave, and make me proud, Seamus,

Love from,

Mammy.

I hated how she wrote about that song. I remembered how she used to sing it all the time. The problem was the end of the song. The parent dies, while Danny is at war, fighting. Danny visits their grave. I don't want that to be me. That _can't _be me.

_And if you come, when all the flowers are dying_

_And I am dead, as dead I well may be_

_You'll come and find the place where I am lying_

_And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me._

_And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me_

_And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be_

_If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me_

_I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me._

_I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me_.


	14. Becoming a Man

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH HHHHHHH MMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY GGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD DDDD.**

**51reviews, oh, my GOD!**

**Yyyyyybnhjmerhjakwlaszdjn skns nzkjfjzzfskjjfsnjhufr b fifskfbhs\nhkinfvrf'HDAQ\KAJK**

**Sorry, I just passed out from happiness onto the keyboard again, Whoopsie.**

**Do you realise how unbelievably happy I am right now? DO YOU?**

******Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine reaching over 50 reviews for a story, you are the best readers ever.**

**I'm dancing right now… inside my head of course, I have the laptop on my knees, but in my head, I'm doing the Charleston! In my head, I've just fallen over… in my head people are laughing, laughing and pointing… oh, wait! *face-palm* that wasn't a daydream, that was a flashback, duh!**

**Anyhoo, thank you all so much for the reviews, they make me so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so happy.**

**So today I'm writing about another hopelessly misunderstood character, Draco. (I throw my wand up in the air some times saying ay-oh, my name is Dra-co!) Draco chapters have been requested, so here you go! Prompts, as always, prompts, pretty please? ****_This _****prompt is from Namna dono, thank you, by the way!**

**Anyway, now that I've gotten ****_that _****out of my system, it's time for the chapter!**

**Character: Draco**

**Genre: angst**

**Prompt; Becoming a man.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but neither do you! Unless, of course, you're JK Rowling, in which case I would be hyperventilating with honour and stuff…. If you ARE JK Rowling, please make your presence known!**

**Enjoy, read, review, um, do whatever it is you do on a regular day, um… yeah…**

Nobody understands what it was like for me after the Battle of Hogwarts. Nobody. It's been seven years and _still _no one understands.

Think about it. I was a Death Eater, on the side of the Dark Lord, and not all that subtle about it. In some egotistical desire to be better than precious Potter, I became the anti-Potter.

Then he saved my life, and that was just plain annoying. Because how can you hate the person who saved your life? You can't. You have to _worship _them and _thank _them and

But still, no one understands. It's like I'm in some sort of limbo. Everyone was convinced I was on the side of the Dark Lord, so was _I_. Then Potter saved my life, and I had to rethink things. Would any Death Eater do that? Probably not. Would a Death Eater even care? Once again, probably not.

So now I'm not exactly sure what to do with myself. I haven't _spoken _to Potter, I haven't _thanked _Potter, I've basically _ignored _Potter.

I don't think he minds that much. I mean, we've never exactly seen eye-to-eye, now have we?

I'm stuck in some sort of ethical, moral dilemma.

I'm being… childish. That's the word, childish. Immature, sulking like I just got told off by a Professor. Out of pride or ego or _something _I'm refusing to talk to Potter. I wish I could say that I hadn't needed saving that day in the Room of Requirement, that would make confronting him easier. I could scream at him, tell him I _never _need saving from _precious _Potter, the Boy who Lived, that I needed his help like a hole in the head, that I was about to perform some magic that he could only _dream _about. The problem is, just before Potter and his friends saved us, I was saying goodbye to the world. I wasn't seeing my life flash before my eyes, I was seeing every single bad thing I'd ever done. Enough to make me wish the Fiend Fire would just swallow me whole already. It was too much to ask for, for my death to be quick and painless, it was most likely going to be very slow and excruciatingly painful. No more than I deserved. But I survived. Ugh, why does that disappoint me? I shouldn't be disappointed that I'm _alive, _should I?

I've always been a spoiled little rich kid whose "father will hear about this". A scared, sheltered little boy who always had something to fall back onto, someone to blame. And, boy, did I blame a lot of people for all the stupid stuff I did. It's a wonder I had any friends at all… Actually, _did _I have friends? (Brilliant, that git Potter is making me doubt _everything _in my life) No, I had followers, people who wanted power and weren't smart enough to get it themselves, people who wanted a leader who they could follow. I was that leader, but were they my friends? I wonder if Potter saved my life just to annoy me.

Astoria doesn't understand, either. She pretends to, of course, she isn't one to admit defeat easily. She's determined to love me. I'm not sure if she really does, but whether she does or she doesn't we're married.

She informed me, one day, that we'd been together long enough for me to propose. Romantic. Astoria wasn't repulsed by the Dark Mark on my arm, she liked a little danger in her life, which I was able to supply. And my parents approved, she was a pure blood, after all. I hope my marriage doesn't turn out like theirs, I knew for a fact they were miserable from the age of seven.

I'm going off the point. Potter. Why is it everything in my life, in one way or the other, revolves around him?

I should say thank you.

I should say I'm sorry.

I should swallow my pride, and be a man.

I _should. _

That doesn't mean I will.

Because saving my life is the one thing I can't forgive him for.


	15. Bloody Red Queen

**Hey my readers! Happy Friday! Isn't every Friday a happy Friday? **  
**Oh holy moly, me-oh-my (you're the apple of my eye) (in case you didn't know, I was quoting ****_home is wherever I'm with you_****, one of my all time favourite songs)**  
**Anyway, holy moly, etc. 57 reviews.**  
**I can't express how happy I am right now!**  
**I'm doing my happy dance, like honestly, not even in my head, I was standing up about twenty seconds ago dancing like a maniac, well, in fairness, every time I dance, I dance like a maniac. I also did a lot of fan girl squealing, like a LOT.**  
**So I really, really, really want to thank you all for all those amazing reviews.**  
**Thank you to:**  
**Release-your-inhibitions**  
**Guest**  
**Natthechicka**  
**LiveLaughLove03**  
**LovelySocks**  
**AbbyPotter73180**  
**Loonaticslover13**  
**Guest**  
**Blenda73**  
**Emocorner14**  
**Bazingababy **  
**toopence**  
**itsverity**  
**Ilovelollypops1**  
**Guest (are you all different guests, or the one guest?)**  
**Digi Yo**  
**Guest**  
**Mooray**  
**Asymetricalpasta03**  
**Wadawa **  
**Namna-dono**  
**You are all so amazing! Like, every single one of you are full of rainbows and sunshine, just sayin'.**  
**So, on with the chapter, my chums! **  
**Bellatrix! Always a pleasure to write about. I think she's one of my favourite Death Eaters (Snape is number one)**  
**I love freeverse so Bellatrix+freeverse=happy Speeder9319! That's about as good at maths as I get… **  
**So happy reading (also happy reviewing…)**  
***Note, please say if you want any particular characters, pairings, prompts or anything you want me to write, but keep in mind I want these to be canon. If you want more freeverse, tell me, if you want less freeverse, tell me, if you want more of any genre, tell me! TELL ME!**  
**Genre: Poetry, angst**  
**Characters: Bellatrix, Voldemort.**  
**Prompt: The Red Queen**

You  
f  
e  
l  
l  
down the rabbit hole  
To a world of d!r!e!a!m!s  
You can have _anything_  
Or so it would _seem_

It's not all its cracked up to be  
Is it Bella?  
It's…  
Just…  
/C/\r/\a/\c/\k/\e/\d\  
Your wonderland is a n*i*g*h*t*m*a*r*e  
(but it's also your reality  
Your _harshharshreality_)  
Too late you realise  
He's fed you a steady diet of lies  
_Oh, poor, poor Bella couldn't see through his lies_  
{{Who can survive on lies?}}  
But you've signed the contract  
(in your own blood)  
{{Your own pure, pure blood}}  
You weren't the only one, though  
Narcissa followed too  
Her heart, as Black as her name.  
Not you though, Bella  
You're red.  
A bloody, bloody red.  
You're not Alice in this story, Bella  
You're the Queen  
You know what they scream  
Don't you?  
Down, d!o!w!n! with the bloody red queen!  
Back to blood, I see…  
It all comes back to blood…  
Half blood.  
((ha- blood))  
((-lf blood))  
Either way you look at it;  
It's **betryal**  
You're  
Hurt+sad+confused+alone+angry  
**He** lied to you  
(he'd lie to anyone)  
He _used_ you  
(he'd _use_ anyone)  
He didn't **care** about you  
(does he **care** about anyone?)  
You're not s~p~e~c~i~a~l, are you Bella?  
(Your mother's favourite, though)  
And how much blood is on your hands?  
All that blood: thanks to him  
{{pureblood  
**half**blood  
_mud_blood}}  
You killed them all!  
{{Death doesn't discriminate}}  
A murderer.  
The bloodyredqueen

…

And Molly Weasley  
Draws her wand  
Points it at you  
{{_Not my daughter, you_ bitch!}}  
Where is he?  
You've spent your life with your  
Eyes _closed_ right open  
Trying not to see  
Seeing only what he _wanted_ you to see  
But there was always  
**Hope**  
Maybe he told the _truth_  
{{He never told you the _truth_}}  
Maybe he didn't use you  
{{Of course he did}}  
Maybe he-  
Maybe he… **cared**?

…

You know he **didn't**}}  
And  
_Avada kedavra!_

_X_

Down with the bloody red queen

.

.

.  
.

{{Why couldn't you have been Alice?}}


	16. Freak

**Hello to you my dear reader friend, how are you today?**  
**I'm good, thank you for asking… Mr. Blank Computer screen…. Never mind…**  
**So, I'm writing about Lily and Petunia today. I know everyone has their own ideas about those two, so I hope you enjoy my interpretation.**  
**Thank you for all the reviews, I never ever ever expected so many, like, seriously, I really never thought I would get 61 reviews, so with that in mind, my ultimate goal is, that by the end of this fic, I'll have 100 *screams with excitement* I'm hoping this will be about 50 chapters- may be more, may be less- so 100 is my goal, I will have heart failure if it happens, though.**  
**So, hopes and dreams aside, onto the chapter.**  
**The idea was given to me by XLittleBlackLilyX, so thanks for that, I hope you like the finished product!**  
**So, as per usual, read, review, enjoy, etc.**  
**I bet my author's notes are getting boring for you, they're always the same…**  
**Hmm… something ton liven this up…**  
**Oh, today, in religion class I sad- in front of everyone, the whole class- the words "I am a flower, please don't step on me" **  
**Hope that keeps you entertained.**  
**Characters: Lily and Petunia**  
**Genre: sadness, hurt, anger **  
**Prompt: Freak.**  
**Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter… never will, either… please excuse me while I go bash my head off a wall and mutter "angst, angst, angst"…**

Lily is dead.  
Lily is _dead_.  
Lily, my little sister is dead.  
I can't wrap my mind around it. She was a- a wi- a witch! I thought she'd be able to save herself; she was mag- magical, after all. What's the point of having all those magical powers if she couldn't defend herself?  
My sister was a freak, a weirdo, an unwelcome oddity in my otherwise normal life.  
Sometimes, I couldn't stand the sight of her, and I would let her know, I'd tell her. She must've thought I hated her. I did hate her, but I didn't want her to die.  
I'm going to miss her.  
My little sister is dead, her and her freaky wi-wizard husband.  
It's all his fault! If she hadn't married him, she wouldn't have died.  
If she was normal she wouldn't have died.

* * *

Her son.  
My nephew.  
We have to look after him, my freak sister's little brat!  
And Dudley, how will he take it? He's such a nice, normal boy. Perfectly normal, just like his father, so wonderfully, perfectly normal. Now my perfect little boy will have to grow up with this- this freak in his life. Just like I did. The boy will be just like his parents, I know it, I'm sure of it.  
He looks just like that James Potter, who won over my parents when he made the teacups tap-dance.  
But when little Harry opens his eyes, he has her eyes. Lily's eyes. Lily's emerald eyes.  
Tears spring up in my own grey eyes.  
I really didn't want her to die.  
I wish I told her how much I loved her.  
I wish she hadn't left me with her brat!

* * *

Harry Potter.  
Harry, nasty, common name, and Potter is even worse. Lily Potter. She was always Lily Evans to me. Mainly because she stopped being my sister when she was still Lily Evans, which was when she started making things fly and disappear at will.  
I remember the first magical thing she did, it was terrifying. She levitated the fine china. Our mother's best, fanciest, only-if-the-queen-comes-for-a-visit china.  
'What are you doing?' I screeched when I saw what she'd done.  
She jumped and turned around in shock, and the china fell to the floor and shattered.  
She burst into tears, 'I don't know, Tuney,' she sobbed, 'I was just looking at it and it started to float!'  
She turned back to the shattered pieces, 'Mummy's going to be so mad!'  
'She will,' I agreed vehemently, shocked and furious with her.  
'Oh, Tuney, what will I say?'  
'I don't know, you should've thought about that before!'  
'I didn't mean to Tuney!' she wailed, dropping to her knees next to the shards.  
'Lily, be careful, you'll hurt yourself!'  
Then, as she continued to sob, all the china pieced itself back together, as though they'd never been broken.  
I ran out of the room, screaming.

* * *

Then she started hanging out with the Snape boy. I hated him, and because Lily spent so much time with him, I hated her too.  
At least that was what I told her.  
I didn't hate her.  
(I did, I truly, truly did)  
I didn't want to hate her.  
It was her fault, she was a freak!

* * *

'Oh, Tuney, he's wonderful!' Lily gushed, the summer after she'd graduated from Hogw- Hog- H-… her school,  
'I mean, he's an arrogant git, and still a bit too cocky, but oh, he's just wonderful!'  
'Isn't he the boy you've been complaining about for the past six years?' I sniffed disdainfully.  
'Oh, well, yes, I suppose he is. But, Tuney he's-'  
'Wonderful, I know Lily! I don't want to hear about your freaky boyfriend, would you just leave me alone?'  
I pushed past her, pretending I hadn't seen the hurt, confused look on her face.  
I couldn't believe she'd had a boyfriend for four months and hadn't told me.

* * *

'But, Tuney listen, please-'  
'I don't want to hear it, Lily! Leave me alone! Why can't you just leave me alone?'  
'Because you're my sister and-'  
'No, Lily! Stop doing this to me! You run off for months and you never tell me anything! And then you just tell me you're engaged?'  
'But Tuney-'  
'Petunia, my name is Petunia. Stop calling me that Lily, it's childish,'  
'But I've always called you Tuney,' she said, her voice small and scared.  
'It's immature,' I sniffed critically.  
'Does Vernon think that?' she asked, her voice brittle.  
That took me aback, how had she seen through me so easily?  
'Why does that even matter? What matters is that you left me, went to a new, better, freaky school, found new, better freakier friends, a weird, crazy boyfriend, got engaged and didn't think to tell about any of it until the last minute!' I sobbed, not even realising that I'd been crying.  
'I-I'm so sorry, Tu-Petunia,' she whispered, 'I never thought…' she trailed off.  
'No,' I said icily, 'You didn't,'  
I turned on my heel to leave.  
'Will you be maid of honour?' she hollered to my retreating back.  
I hesitated.  
Maid of honour, I could've sworn she'd choose one of her freaks, Alice Longbottom, maybe.  
Then ran as fast as I could back to her, slamming into her and throwing my arms around her, all before I even thought about it.  
'Of course!' I sobbed.

* * *

I thought things would change after that.  
They didn't.  
She went back to her better, freaky friends, her weird, crazy boyfriend and left me.  
Again.  
What a gullible fool I was.

* * *

Our relationship deteriorated to a letter and a meagre gift at birthdays and Christmas.  
And the longer we were separated the more my mind accentuated her flaws and forgot her virtues.  
I forgot just how beautifully piercing her green eyes were, until Harry opened his.  
And now she's gone.  
All I'm left with are her son and memories of everything I did to drive her away.


	17. Flowers

HEY!  
I'm SUPER hyper right now, no idea why, because I haven't had ANY sugar today! CAPSLOCK!  
I don't know why I said that, I have no idea why I said that, ugh, brain, why? uh, I don't know why, blame Hands for typing it! Hands, this is your fault, why did you so that, we look like idiots on the internet! ok, sorry, sorry, my bad…  
Why, yes, I am completely and utterly insane, thanks for asking!  
Anyhoo, it's chapter time, and time for a chapter I've been wanting to write for ages!  
Fleur chapter!  
Also, I'm trying a new format for this chapter.  
Ok, so the quick explanation is this chapter is a lot of 100 word drabbles, not in order, all about Fleur. See I had a whole bunch of ideas that I couldn't write into a full chapter, so I have a bunch of lovely drabbly drabbles for you. Hope you like this, let me know, I could do it more often if you do!  
Onto other news.  
You will never ever ever ever ever ever guess what Thursday, January the 31st is!  
MY BIRTHDAY!  
Yay, a year older and stuff, and cake mmmmm cake…  
So for my birthday will you review, please? I'd love that, it'll make my day!  
So on with the chapter my friends!  
Character: Fleur  
Genre: Angst comfort  
Prompt: Flowers.  
Disclaimer: rettoP yrraH nwo t'nod I.  
FIGURE IT OUT.

* * *

Fleur was, in her own opinion, a walking oxymoron. She was the ugliest pretty person, or the prettiest ugly person in the world, she couldn't decide which.

She was used to her friends sighing with envy at the sight of her perfect, flowing silver-blonde hair, wide, dark blue eyes and perfect complexion.  
She was also used to being laughed at behind her back, and called ugly by her cousins. Her perfect Veela cousins.  
She had accepted by the time she was ten, that she was a stunning human but an ugly Veela.  
She pretended not to care, but she did.

* * *

Fleur wasn't the smartest girl in Beauxbatons.

She was horrified by Defence Against the Dark Arts. (she tried to convince her teacher she was a pacifist)  
She was gifted at Charms, and Transfiguration.  
Abysmal at Potions. (she melted her cauldrons)  
Bored by History of Magic. (Nap time.)  
Nauseated by Herbology. (she had to put her hands in dragon dung!)  
Confused by Arithmancy.  
Befuddled by Ancient Ruins.  
Awed by Astronomy. (the stars are so pretty)  
She was an average student, passing every class, but excelling in few.  
But when they announced the Triwizard tournament, she got an "O" in every subject.

* * *

Bill Weasley was an obnoxious git, in her opinion.

A very cool obnoxious idiot, but she wasn't going to admit that to anyone.  
Sure he looked excitingly dangerous with his long, flame red hair, dragon tooth earring and dragon skin boots. Yeah, he had a grin that was enough to make her melt. Be it as it may that when he winked at her, she blushed so brightly that she resembled a tomato, but still, their first encounter was not at all romantic.  
It was before the third task.  
'Hey, gorgeous,' he smirked.  
She hexed him.  
He was in love.

* * *

She said what she thought, regardless of others.

She knew Ginny and Molly hated her for it.  
But what was the point of trying to make them like someone who wasn't really her? It was too exhausting to pretend to like Molly's heavy, stodgy cooking, or pretend that Ginny didn't annoy her.  
Besides, it was their problem if they didn't like her, not hers.  
Fleur had always been accused of being fake.  
Fleur was a lot of things blunt, standoffish, sometimes rude.  
But she wasn't fake.

* * *

Before she met Bill, there was no one she loved more than Gabrielle.

No one.  
She was protective of her.  
One time, when Gabrielle was three a boy pushed her over. Fleur, "accidentally" threw him over the garden wall using the sort of magic that burst out of her when she was furious. Gabrielle wasn't seriously hurt. The boy was.  
Because no one, no one would hurt her while she was around.  
She never forgave herself for not being able to save her in the second task.  
And she could never, ever thank Harry enough for doing what she couldn't.

* * *

Victoire. Dominique. Louis.

All so breathtakingly beautiful and wonderful in their own ways, that Fleur couldn't bear to take her eyes off them.  
First was Victoire, the eldest, with her silver blonde hair and Bill's ice blue eyes. She had Bill's rebellious streak, and Fleur's tenacity. In other words, she was a handful.  
Then came Dominique, the vivacious blonde beauty with Molly Weasley's brown eyes. She was quiet and bookish, like Percy.  
Then Louis, the precious baby. He was red haired and navy eyed. Amiable but mischievous, like his two twin uncles.  
Fleur never knew she could be so lucky.


	18. Look at me

**Hello, dear reader, writer, fanfiction enthusiast or my own personal stalker (Hi, Bob!)**

**I had a lovely birthday, why thank you for asking.**

**70 reviews! i'm so happy right now, so i'm rewarding you with my longest chapter so far! **

**I'm really quite proud of it...**

**please, read review and enjoy!**

**Characters: Lavender, Seamus**

**Genre: Hurt/ comfort, angst, horror**

**Prompt: Look at me**

Dancing when no one can see, is a lot like screaming when no one can hear.

What's the point? You're only doing it for yourself, no one else, so why bother at all?

Because everything is a show for you, isn't it, Lavender? And you crave the audience.

Because what are you worth, when no one knows you exist? You're only worth other people's opinions, aren't you, without them you are nothing.

It all started when you were eight, and you set the curtains on fire.

You screamed. How did that even happen? Mummy and Daddy did magic, but they needed a wand. You didn't have a wand; mummy said you were too young to have a wand. So how did that happen?

_'Mummy_!' you screamed as the pretty purple flames danced closer to your even prettier face.

_'Daddy_!'

Finally remembering how to use your legs, you ran from the room, screaming at the top of your lungs. You finally found your mother, busy with something for the office, an important letter to an important person.

'Mummy! The curtains are on fire!'

'That's nice, dear. Now toddle off and play, Mummy's busy,'

'But- but, the curtains are-' you stopped, realising for the first time, that she never, ever listened.

Things progressed from there.

(Never enough attention, _never_)

Not enough attention when you received your Hogwarts letter.

'Oh, I'm so excited, Mum,'

(You stopped calling her Mummy when you realised you could call her Blibbering Humdinger and she would nod and smile and say, _that's nice, dear_)

'Yes, yes,' she said, 'We all got Hogwarts letters, it's nothing special,'

You ran to your room and sobbed.

Then Daddy came home from work, at eleven thirty, like always. Too late for a tuck-in, a kiss on the forehead, or a goodnight, sweetheart. He woke you up that night, though.

'You got your letter,' he smiled tiredly, his mind obviously else-where.

'Yes, Daddy,'

(You were always your Daddy's girl, weren't you?)

'We'll take you shopping tomorrow, for your wand and books,' he said.

'Shopping?' you sat up straight in your bed, beaming that winning smile Daddy couldn't resist.

He laughed at your delight. Or maybe he was happy because it was so easy to buy your love.

Because who would want to put any effort in, when all they had to do was buy you something pretty, and they had endless money in the bank?

'Aren't you working tomorrow, Daddy?'

'No, darling, I'm taking the day off, it's a very important day, after all; I want to be there,' He tucked you in, kissed your forehead, and called you sweetheart.

Was that so much to ask for?

Hogwarts was your paradise.

You were the first to be sorted into Gryffindor, which made you smile, in a smug, self-satisfied way. The first. And everyone screamed so loudly, so loudly it hurt your ears in the most wonderful possible way. That meant they noticed you. No one forgets the first person who did anything.

And all it took was a wink and a giggle to have a gaggle of awed boys hanging on your every word.

And a sweet compliment and a forced laugh at a joke that wasn't funny to have a group of girls begging to be your best friend. Paradise. #

(They also taught magic, but who cared about that? Not you, when you had an endless supply of attention.)

Your mother and father didn't write, even when you sent them endless supplies of letters. You pretended not to care, even though it made your stomach twist and heart ache.

Then came the Yule Ball, which you thought was sent to you by an angel who wanted to see you smile.

An endless and steady stream of boys line up, to ask you if you'd go with them.

You never gave them a straight answer, because the chase was too delicious, if you said yes, or no, the chase would stop.

One boy's adoring and constant attention just wasn't enough for you. So you smiled and tossed your hair and said that maybe, just maybe, they'd be the one who could take you. You turned it into a game, a competition. They all wanted to win because you were the prize.

You chose Seamus because he was funny and Irish and his eyes sparkled with mischief and his accent was amazing.

And at the dance you were beautiful, but overlooked.

Fleur Delacour would've stolen the show, but it was Hermione who took everyone's breath away. You didn't care as much as you thought you would, because when Seamus held your hand you wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but you never knew why.

In sixth year, despite the fact that you still got a swooping feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever you heard that amazing Irish accent, you began to flirt relentlessly with Ron Weasley.

Because he was popular and the Quidditch star and when you kissed him in the Common room after Quidditch everyone was watching.

You stole his first kiss, didn't you, Lavender? You stole it so people would notice you. You were despicable, and you knew it, but you didn't care, because he was a faithful puppy who craved your approval like air.

Until he didn't.

And you broke up, because he loved Hermione, and you... you liked Seamus's accent and eyes.

Then the golden trio left, leaving Hogwarts in a state of panic. The only positive was that you got to listen to Seamus's accent and see his amazing eyes more often.

'Do you still like Weasley?' Seamus asked one night, when you were patrolling the corridors under Neville's instruction.

'No... I don't think in did in the first place,' you mumbled, polishing your wand on your robes.

'Could've fooled me, what with the fact you shifted the face off him every time you saw him,' he muttered, and you could hear jealousy in his tone.

Playing it cool, as always you asked, 'What does shifted mean?'

'Oh, right, sorry, Irish thing. Snogged, shifted means snogged,'

'Oh,' you laughed, remembering that Seamus had so many weird words that only Irish people knew the meaning of.

'Just like eejit means git?' You asked, hoping he would laugh.

He did laugh, 'Yeah, and grand means okay,'

You thought quickly, trying to remember all the weird things he said, so maybe he would know that you always paid attention to him, the way you wanted others to pay attention to you.

'Leave it out means stop fighting, right?'

'Kind of,' he said, 'Sometimes,' he grinned, 'Means leave me alone, too,'

'Oh... Irish is confusing,'

'I wasn't even speaking Irish,' he laughed.

'You weren't?'

'Nah, Irish is _way_ more confusing than that,' he laughed as though it was common knowledge.

'Can you speak real Irish, then?' you asked, curious.

He nodded, 'Sea,'  
'Sha?'  
'It means yeah,' he rolled his eyes.

'Ok, I'll take your word for it,' you said.

'You should, me mam taught me all I know,' he nodded solemnly. 'So what about you, Lav, did your mother teach you any pearls of wisdom?' 'No,' you answer after a pause.  
'No?'  
You shook your head. 'I may as well have been invisible,'

'You could never be invisible,'

Then he looked you in the eyes, body facing yours, then kissed you. There's nobody watching this time, not like with Ron, no screaming and cheering and wolf-whistles, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

Greyback attacks you during the Battle of Hogwarts.

And you're screaming and screaming and no one can hear, so what's the point? And you can people scream your name, ask you if you were alright, so many you can't believe it, but all you want is your Irish boy.

And then you hear him, screaming for you, before you lose consciousness with a smile on your face.

Then you wake up with a crowd of concerned people looking at you with sad eyes, in the hospital wing.

Seamus is holding your hand, and you feel like you're back at the Yule ball. But the scratchy white sheets are nothing compared to lavender silk.

You see your mother and father and that's when you start to cry. They're there when you need them, and that's all that matters to you.

Until you see your reflection.

Beautiful, beautiful Lavender Brown has turned into a jigsaw puzzle.

From that moment on, all you can think, is that if no one every looks at you again, it will be too soon.

It took almost being mauled to death for you to realise that having all the attention the world could offer isn't half as important as when the Irish boy with the mischievous eyes and amazing accent holds your hand.


	19. Lost Love

**Hello, dear readers, how are we today?**  
**If you did the polite thing and said "I'm fine thank you, how are you?" the answer is not good.**  
**I'm sick. It's the plague (the Bubonic sort)…**  
**No, I am not coming down with a case of melodrama I HAVE THE PLAGUE, MY DAYS ARE NUMBERED!**  
**No, um, actually I just have a really bad cold and cough. But I'm not feeling so great… So review, it'll make me feel better!**  
**Anyway, onto business!**  
**Tomorrow is Valentine's day -stupid, stupid *sob* Hallmark *sniffle*holiday - so I'm writing a romance chapter, but not the sort you may think…**  
**SIRIUS chapter!**  
**Siriusly! **  
**And I am NOT pairing him with an OC *gag* because with every due respect to those who like canon/OC pairings *cough-Mary Sue- cough cough*, these oneshots are canon.**  
**So anyway, this chapter is not to be taken Siriusly *ha, pun*, it's purely for fun, because I haven't done a humorous chapter in ages and all the angst is bringing me down….**  
**If you LIKE my angst, there will be plenty more to come, though, I promise!**  
**Enjoy! Review! **  
**Character: Sirius Black**  
**Genre: Humour/ Friendship **  
**Prompt: Lost Love.**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did, I would get Seamus or Neville or Dean or Draco or Ron or Fred or George or Bill or Charlie or well pretty much any Harry Potter fella to be my date for Valentine's day tomorrow…**

It was love at first sight.

He fell on love with her the second he saw her, sleek and gorgeous and dangerous.

His parents would never approve, which was what made it all the more fun.

She was perfect, she could do no wrong in his eyes. He loved her with every fibre of his being, more than he could express in words.

He'd never been in love before, so it was an entirely foreign concept.

Sure, James droned on about his feelings for Lily so often Sirius wanted to use a not-so forgivable curse on him, and Peter fell in love with any girl who gave him the time of day- or an offensive nickname, he wasn't fussy- and Remus was, as the Marauders put it "too sensible for the shenanigans hormones put a gentleman in", but Sirius never knew what love felt like until that moment.  
He'd had a lot of girlfriends. A lot. He had a reputation for it. Any girl who dated Sirius Black knew that they wouldn't be together for long. Oddly enough, that didn't stop them throwing themselves at him.

But now he was in love. Head over heels in love.

Unconditionally, irrevocably, entirely hopelessly in love.

So in love, in fact, he suddenly realised what all the cliché Muggle "rom-com" movies he watched to spite his parents had been on about.

They'd been together for two weeks, when he decided to introduce her to his friends.

'Moon, Wormtail, Prongs, Evans,' he announced, 'I have news. Big news. Huge news. Colossal news. News so big, all other news seems miniscule in comparison.' he paused, 'I'm in love,'

'As in love love?' James asked cautiously, Sirius had pulled this stunt more than once before, such as the time he was hopelessly infatuated with the Hogwarts treacle tart, or once, with James' mum. James was almost entirely sure he'd been joking about that, though.

'Yes, Prongs, love love,'

'What's her name?' Peter squeaked.

'Yeah, what's the name of the girl who finally got _Sirius Black _of all people to settle down? She deserves a medal,' James said.

'Sasha,' Sirius beamed.

'Sasha?' Remus repeated.

'Yeah, beautiful, isn't it?

'Do we get to meet her any time soon?' Remus asked.

'Oh, yes. Really soon. Now in fact; she's outside.'

'You left your girlfriend out in the cold?' Lily demanded.

'Now, when you say girlfriend, you'd be using that term rather loosely,' Sirius said.

'What do you mean. Are you dating a Veela?'

'No, no. But I wouldn't say no to a Veela, mind you,'

'A hag?'

'I have standards, James,'

'A Pygmy Puff?'

'Never again. D'you want to meet her or not?'

They crowded outside to meet Sirius' girlfriend.

'Mate… It's a motorcycle,' James said, baffled.

'She's a motorcycle, Prongs, have some respect,'

'Sorry, mate.'

'You named your bike Sasha?' Remus asked.

'Yeah, what was I supposed to call her?'

'My cousin had a bike like this, an old Harley Sprinter.' Lily said nostalgically, 'He used to let me ride it. My parents found out when I drove it into a wall one time after a party.'

'Yeah, well I bet his one couldn't fly,'

'It can fly?'

'It can indeed, Evans,'

'How does it do that?' Peter squeaked.

'Magic,' Sirius said sarcastically.

'She's a keeper, Padfoot,'

'Yeah, I hope you too have a nice, long life together. Maybe settle down and have some children,' Lily teased.

'That's the plan,'

'Well, Padfoot, I never thought I'd live to see the day, you really _are _in love,'

'Me either,'

'I'm so proud, my boy's all grown up,' James said, tearfully.

'Don't get emotional, because if you get emotional, I'll get emotional,' Sirius said, fanning his hand in front of his face in a mock effort to stop the "tears".

Lily rolled her eyes, 'You're both completely insane,'

'If you're only realising this now, love, I don't know where you've _been_ for the last nine years,' James said.

So Sirius and his motorcycle stayed very much in love for the coming years. Girls came and girls went, but Sasha stayed with him through thick and thin.

She was a symbol of the freedom his parents never let him have. He'd always felt so pressured, so suffocated as a child. As though he was being forced into a mold that he couldn't fit into.

He wasn't a Black, his mother made that clear when she burned his face off the tapestry.

He was a rebel, in nature, and the motorcycle was the perfect representation of that.

* * *

The night Lily and James died, he gave his motorcycle to Hagrid, after he'd insisted that he couldn't take Harry.

Hagrid needed her more than he did. As much as he loved Sasha, he loved Lily, James and Harry more.

Nothing mattered as much as they did.

It was ironic, in a way, because after he's given the bike up- his symbol of freedom- his actual freedom was taken away, too.

He was sent to Azkaban, for failing to kill that traitor, Pettigrew. He stopped being Wormtail when he betrayed his friends.

Sirius lost everything in that moment.

He lost his friends.

He lost his freedom.

He lost his sanity.

And he lost his motorcycle.


	20. If Walls Could Talk

**Hey, readers…**  
**I don't know what to say.**  
**I've officially run out of peppy, annoying grammatically incorrect things to write down in these author's notes. **  
**Ok…**  
**Um…**  
**Oh! Oh! Inspiration.**  
**I am the walrus coo coo ca choo…**  
**(Beatles reference, heh heh heh.)**  
**…**  
**…**  
**…**  
**Oh, yeah, no big deal or anything but-**  
**THIS IS THE TWENTIETH CHAPTER OF THIS STORY OH MY GOD I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME I'M SO EXCITED I WOULD LIKE TO THANK MY MOTHER AND FATHER WHO ALWAYS BELIEVED IN ME AND THE WRITERS AND THE DIRECTOR WHO HAD SUCH GREAT VISION AND THE …**  
**(Yes, that's what I'd be like if I won an Oscar…)**  
**(I am quite the actress…)**  
**(Dramatic hair flip)**  
**Well that put some pep in my step, didn't it? :3**  
**Oh, for the love of grammar I'm so happy. You really are the best reviewers ever. 7 reviews for one chapter, keep it up, really you are all amazing and FULL OF SUNSHINE RAINBOWS PIXIE DUST AND MAGIC!**  
**So onto the chapter!**  
**Today's character is *gasp* Hogwarts!**  
**As in, the castle, the unplottable one in the Scottish country side, that one!**  
**I was wracking my brains trying to think of something to write about, then this came to mind! Bam! It hit me like a meteorite! I died for a second! (S'all good now, I'm no stranger to head injuries.)**  
**I'm going to do another drabble collection! This time there are thirteen. THIRTEEN. In honour of this being the 20th chapter and all…**  
**I'm mainly focusing on characters I think are important in the series: the founders, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lily and James, the next generation, etc.**  
**Any way, review lots!**  
**(OH YEAH! All the stuff about McGonagall is true, look it up on Harry Potter Wiki)**  
**Ok, here we go, happy twentieth chapter!**  
**Character: Hogwarts**  
**Genre: General**  
**Prompt: If walls could talk.**  
**Disclaimer: (Insert disclaimer here)**

'Yes, I think this will do rather nicely,' a pretty black haired, blue eyed woman said to her companions.

'I agree, Rowena,' a man, brown haired and tall, with a ruby encrusted sword strapped to his belt said eagerly.

'Oh, look,' a short, plump, mousy woman cried, running to a window, 'I can't wait to start planting here,'

The fourth and final member of their group laughed. He was dressed in emerald robes, eyes the same shade and just as vivid.  
'Well,' the woman, Rowena said, 'Godric, Salazar, Helga are you ready to start?'

The year was 1035.

Hogwarts was born.

* * *

'Yes! Perfect!' Rowena exclaimed, as one of her students succeeded in levitating her feather.

'Thank you, Professor Ravenclaw,' the student chirped.

At the same time, in the dungeons, Salazar was equally delighted.

'Everyone, gather round, this is the perfect Essence of Euphoria,' he told the class.

Elsewhere, Godric was having a spot of bother.

'No! No! Everyone stop!' He bellowed, 'Stop stunning each other!'

Half of his class was unconscious.

And outside, Helga was up to her elbows in dragon dung.

Somewhere, a student screamed, 'Help!'

'Merlin, the Venomous Tentacula!' She gasped, standing up so quickly her hat flew off.

* * *

'Salazar! Please, listen,' Helga begged, close to tears, Rowena and Godric standing on either side of her.

'No, Helga, I won't have it! They're from muggle families, they're not magical,'

'But they are,' Rowena argues, 'They're as magical as you or I!'

'No, they aren't,' Salazar said flatly, 'We should ban the muggle borns from learning here? Let them learn somewhere else, I say! Come, Godric, don't you agree? '

Godric stared at the man whom he thought to be his best friend as though he'd never seen him before.

They'd had this argument countless times.

'No, Salazar, I don't,'

* * *

'Maybe it's in Slytherin's common room,' Helga suggested, 'He never did let any of us in there, after all,'

'No, it wouldn't be, the students could just enter it by mistake,' Rowena argued.

'Where else could it be?'

'Not in the common room, that's for sure,' Godric muttered, 'A monster wouldn't fit in there,'

'Who said the monster has to be big?' Rowena protested.

Godric sighed, 'What possessed him to make a secret chamber in the fist place?'

'You know what,' Rowena said softly, placing her hand on Godric's.

'I do.' he sighed, 'I just don't want to accept it,'

* * *

'Helga, maybe, maybe there's a potion-' Rowena started, only to be cut off by Helga.

'To reverse old age?' Helga chuckled weakly. 'I'm ninety three, Rowena, dear, I think it's my time,'  
Godric clutched her hand tighter.

'What are we going to do about the sorting? We barely manage without… without Salazar as it is,' Rowena murmured.

'I know!' Godric exclaimed.

He whipped off his hat and muttered a spell.

'There, that should do it,' he beamed.

'Do what?' Helga murmured.

Godric placed the hat on her head.

'Hufflepuff!' the hat yelled almost immediately.

Helga Hufflepuff took her last breath.

* * *

'Albus Dumbledore!' Armando Dippet called out to the anxious first years.

'Dumbledore?'

'He's Percival's son!'

'Poor boy, with a father like that,'

Dumbledore ignored the murmurings in the hall and sat down on the stool.

The hat was placed on his head.

'Ah, how interesting,' the hat mused, 'Clever, very clever. Hungry for knowledge. Ravenclaw, perhaps? Amiable, hard working, too, Hufflepuff? Maybe not. Power hungry, aren't you? Ambitious. You would do anything to prove yourself, wouldn't you? Slytherin might suit you. But you're brave, loyal, intensely so, you'd do anything for a friend. Yes, I think I've got it. GRYFFINDOR!'

* * *

'Oh, Albus, I don't know what I'm going to do,' Minerva McGonagall sobbed into a tartan handkerchief.

Dumbledore looked down upon his favourite colleague with sadness.

'I'm sorry, Minerva,' he murmured.

'I know, Albus, I'm sorry, I'm being really rather foolish,'

'Not at all, Minerva,' Dumbledore replied.

She stared out of the window of the Headmaster's office, watching the sun set the clouds on fire.

'He was a great man,'

'Thank you, Albus,'

Professor McGonagall thanked the Headmaster for his sympathy and left.

She went for a walk around the lake, where her now late husband had proposed to her.

* * *

'Lileeee,' James hollered down the Great Hall, 'Go to the Yule Ball with meeee!'

'I've already agreed to go with Severus,' Lily replied smoothly.

James fell off the table he'd been standing on in shock.

'_Snivellus_?'

'Why didn't she say yes, Padfoot?' James asked when he'd returned to the common room.

'Maybe she knows you can't dance?' Sirius suggested.  
James groaned, 'Help me!'

Lily found them, ten minutes later.

'Put your hand on my waist,'

'Where?'

'My waist, _honestly_ Prongs,'

'Take my hand. I'm going to lead, just follow,'

'Alright,'

'Oh, James you found yourself a partner!' Lily beamed, giggling.

* * *

'I love you, Evans,' James mumbled, resting his cheek on his Transfiguration book.

Lily sighed.

'I'm being your friend, James, isn't that enough?'

'No! Give me one good reason why we shouldn't be together!' He cried.

She ignored how sweet he looked with his hair messy and glasses askew.

'I… don't want to mess up our friendship?' She said lamely.

'We aren't that great friends,' he said. 'Please go out with me,' he added softly.

'All right,' she sighed.

'Really?'

'Really,' she laughed, the sound was cut off by his kiss.

She shyly returned that kiss, the first of many.

* * *

'James Potter!' Minerva McGonagall called out.

'James Potter, did she say?'

'Yes, I think she did.'

'Harry Potter's son?'

'Yes, look, he kind of looks like him, those must be his mother's eyes,'

James walked- rather, swaggered- up to the stool and the hat was placed on his head, him smirking confidently.

'Ah, a Potter! Always tricky to place! But no matter, I'll figure it out. Now, let's see… brave, of course, that's a given. Rather like your namesake, daring, loyal… But slightly bitter, a lot to live up to… ambitious, thirsty to prove yourself… Slytherin? No, you're a Gryffindor!'

* * *

'Albus Potter!'

'He just looks like his father,'

'Looks terrified,'

'Another Gryffindor, definitely,'

'Imagine, a Potter in a different house,'

Albus gulped, terrified, and sat down on the stool, the hat on his head.

'Oh, well this is interesting! Scared, are you?'

_No, n-not at all_

'Ha! That's a lie! Now, onto business… Smart, clever… power hungry, too. The makings of a Slytherin boy, I think. You would thrive in Slytherin, you'd grow,'

_N-no! I don't want to be in Slytherin!_

'Why not?'

_Be-because my dad-_

'Afraid what your father would think? Definitely not brave enough for Gryffindor, then, SLYTHERIN!'

* * *

'Lily Potter!'

'She looks just like Ginny, doesn't she?'

'Yeah, she does,'

'Tiny, isn't she?'

Lily skipped up to the stool, but before she sat down, she turned to Professor McGonagall.

'I prefer to be called Lily Luna, thank you,' she said sweetly.

'Well, well, very _brave_ aren't you, Lily Luna? I've never seen anyone speak to McGonagall before a sorting… Now, let me see… very clever aren't you? Very witty, brave, loyal, but rather… quiet, aren't you? Not bookish, but a dreamer, rather like your namesake, that Lovegood girl. She thrived in Ravenclaw, and so shall you, so, RAVENCLAW!'

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood together, under their tree, next to the lake.

They looked out over the water, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

Their children, had by this point all graduated, and were off pursuing their careers, or in some cases, trying to start one.

Ginny, Neville, Luna, Rolf, Hannah, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, George and Angelina all joined them by the time the sun was setting.

'…And then,' Harry laughed, 'He just said, "Sorry about that" and put the door back!'

'You're kidding!'

They were exchanging stories about their friends.

'…So then, he just started throwing up, huge slugs, they were gigantic!'

'It wasn't funny, Hermione,'

The group of hysterically laughing friends disagreed.

'…We were invisible, but I swear he could see us, he said, 'Help will always been given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it,' Ron murmured softly.

It was timed like those they missed their loved ones the most.

'It's true, isn't it you'll always be given help here. It's really home, isn't it?' Luna said dreamily, 'There's just something about the castle itself. It's a magical place.'


	21. Friends

**Hello, readers!*Insert super happy emoticon here***

**I, like always, want to thank you for your amazing reviews. They are amazing AND SO ARE YOU!**

**So, onto to today's chapter!**

**Cho and Cedric, as requested by a reviewer.**

**I just want to say, before you read the chapter, that if you think Cho seems a wee bit OOC, I have my reasons for that.**

**The way I see it, we only get to know Cho properly AFTER Cedric dies, and she is, for the most part, emotional and grief stricken. So, by that logic, we don't really know what she was like before she became a mopey, serious, sobbing mess.**

**So in my mind she was a sweet, cheerful, perfectly happy girl. Until the love of her life died L**

**_Anyway_****, please enjoy!**

**So, on with the chapter**

**Genre: Frienship/Romance/Angst**

**Prompt: Friends**

**Disclaimer: All of the characters, stroyline and everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Anything that makes you want to send money to the author belongs to me...**

Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory weren't friends.

It was as simple as that.

They didn't hate or dislike each other, nothing of the sort.

But they didn't _exactly _ know the other existed.

They knew _of _each other, through other friends, but never associated with one another.

She was the girl who knew the answer to every question in Charms.

He was the boy who wasn't listening to the question, but knew the answer all the same.

She was the girl who was sleek and shiny and put together.

He was the boy who was rumpled and messy and "I just rolled out of bed, but look great anyway."

She was sweet.

He was rugged.

She was precise.

He was slap-dash.

She was shy.

He was outgoing.

She was pretty.

He was handsome.

She was witty.

He was smart.

She was a Ravenclaw.

He was a Hufflepuff.

So, naturally, they were going to fall in love.

When the year of the Triwizard Tournament rolled around, they sat next to each other in Transfiguration.

They were civil acquaintances, but still not friends.

They said hello, they said goodbye, they borrowed quills, they shared their opinion of the weather, they discussed Quidditch ("Of _course _the Tornados are going to win, you _git!"_).

And that was that.

Then, one day, the inevitable happened.

They became friends.

Which was, of course, the beginning.

They had inside jokes that no one else understood.

("Hey, Cho? Cho! Pygmy Puff!"

Then she'd burst into hoots of amusement, and everyone else would wonder what they were on about.)

They were comfortable to tease each other rotten, without showing the slightest amount of mercy.

("Hey, Cedric! That's the Gryffindor you went out with last month, isn't it, _Ceddy-bear?"_)

She felt comfortable enough to physically attack him whenever she saw fit to do so.

("Ceeeedriiiic!" Cho would scream, then go barrelling down the hallway, slamming into him, sending the two of them sprawling on the floor. She'd playfully kiss his nose, and he'd ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach, and try not to blush.)

If he wasn't chivalrous enough to make her a cup of tea, then woe betide him.

She couldn't go a day without trying to tidy his hair, or telling him to tuck in his shirt, for god's sake.

He couldn't go a day without ruffling her hair and magically undoing her tie.

They would pass notes in classes, and almost always got caught doing so.

("Mr. Diggory, may I ask why you and Ms. Chang were playing hang-man in the middle of class?" Snape would drawl. They never figured out an answer.)

They would practise Quidditch together, and try their best to distract each other enough to find the snitch without the other noticing.

("Hey, Cedric, Ced? Did I tell you about the Potions test tomorrow?"

"_What? _No, you didn't!"

"Yeah, y'know, the one I made up?" she'd laugh, swooping to catch the snitch.)

And then, they became _best _friends, without even thinking about it. It just happened.

("Oh, sorry, Josie, I can't go with you to Hogsmeade, I promised Cho I would go with her," He'd apologised to another Ravenclaw girl when she'd asked him out to Hogsmeade.

"Are you _going out_ with Cho? I _knew_ you two were a couple!"

"Me and Cho? No, not at all! A couple of weirdos, maybe, but not a _couple!"_

Which, in his opinion, summed up their relationship perfectly.)

They were best friends.

But then he had his doubts.

_All _best friends cuddled up next to the fire on cold nights, right?

_All _best friends would rather spend time with each other than go on a date, right?

_All _best friends thought about each other all the time, when they were supposed to be concentrating, right?

_All _best friends were a little bit in love with each other, right?

Then came the realisation that he wanted to be _more _than best friends.

'Hey, uh, Cho?'

'Yes, Cedric?'

'Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?'

'I already am, Cedric, we sorted it out ages ago,' she laughed, 'You'd forget your head, only it's attached to you!'

'Yeah... yeah, I would,'

'Are you alright, Ced?'

That was when he did what he considered to be the stupidest thing he had ever done in his whole life.

He kissed her.

He barely had time to register how soft her lips were when she pulled back.

Then she ran out of the Hufflepuff common room. (Possibly screaming, Cedric thought, his ear were too full of a ringing, buzzing sound to hear anything.)

And he tried to concuss himself off a wall.

She lay in bed that night, not sleeping.

She didn't know if she liked or resented that kiss.

If she was going to hex him in the morning.

If she wanted another.

The next morning was the Hogsmeade visit.

He waited where they said they were going to meet.

Suddenly, he saw a figure sprinting towards him, yelling: 'Ceeeedriiiic!'

Then Cho barrelled into him, knocking him to the ground, before kissing him, longer and deeper than their first.

'Ready to go to Hogsmeade?' she asked breathlessly.

The rest, as they say, is history.

They dated for a while, went to the Yule Ball together, she supported and helped him through the tasks.

Their "I love you" scene was understated, not a big, romantic crazy gesture.

'Hey, Cho?'

'Yeah, Ced?' She said, without looking up from her Herbology book.

'Love you,'

'Pygmy Puff,' she responded.

'_Cho!' _he mock-wailed.

She laughed at his antics, because he was, at that point, hiding behind a Charms book.

'Love you too,'

'Good,' came his muffled reply, 'My ego would have suffered otherwise."

She tackled him into the sofa cushions.

Their story wasn't a remarkable one.

They weren't friends. They were friends. They were _best _friends. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They were soulmates.

Because she was sweet.

He was rugged.

She was precise.

He was slap-dash.

She was shy.

He was outgoing.

She was pretty.

He was handsome.

She was witty.

He was smart.

She was a Ravenclaw.

He was a Hufflepuff.

So, _naturally_, they were going to fall in love.


	22. Least of All You

Hello, my dear reader friend, happy Wednesday. Just think, tomorrow is Thursday, the day after is Friday, which is great because then it's the weekend! Woop! Then… then it's Monday, and then everything's awful, just awful. Sigh…

Anyway, I have news!

Myself and another author, Namna dono, have a little game/challenge thing going on. She has a series of freeverse poems, each dedicated to character/ characters, just like these oneshots, so we write about the same characters and compare our stories. Fun! Now you can review and do the annoying Youtube thing y'know "OMG, I wuz lyke, lukin at d tv and saw dis song on an ad, OMG, Mcdonalds totes brought me here! #luv dis!" (My inner grammar freak is weeping, positively weeping!)

Onto the chapter!

This week I'm writing my own freeverse, because, well, I can't resist a freeverse. Who can?!

It's about Rolf. Rolf minus Luna unfortunately, but this is full of angst and bitterness, and I think Luna makes him happy.

On with the chapter, then!

As always, reduce, reuse and review! (reviewing helps save the environment)

Character: Rolf Scamander

Prompt: Least of all you.

Disclaimer: Once upon a time, JK Rowling's wonderful book stole my heart. So I stole her characters.

* * *

You've always be special, haven't you Rolf?

A wild, burning, untamed supernova

In a d.u.l.l, b'o'r'i'n'g night sky.

You'd rather be odd+weird+crazy

Than regular+boring+normal.

You don't care that they talk

{don't you?}

It doesn't bother you that they tease

{doesn't it?}

You laugh along with them

{you know what they say:

If you don't laugh you would just

crycrycry}

You're a _genius_,

So _c-c-clever_

_So smart_

Just _brilliant_

Oh, you're _smart_ all right,

But you _hate_

[facts]

And

F2i3g4u5r6e7s

And da/te/s

_**And studying is**_

_**The Cruciatus curse**_

You're a golden boy

{{so sh-sh-shiny}}

But you want to be tarnished,

Because the expectations

[suffocate] you.

You're a diamond

Who wants to _stay_in the rough

Because you want

A/d/v/e/n/t/u/r/e

And e!x!c!i!t!e!m!e!n!t

And f*u*n.

You want to be

y-o-u.

You, Rolf Scamander who

Believes in the Crumple Horned Snorkack

And has great stories about doxies

And whose shoes are {stolen}

{{Must've been the Nargles}},

But you can't.

You can't be you

Who is

Wild and fun and wonderful

Who is

Kind and honest and generous

Who is

A riddle within a limerick within an enigma

Who is

_Scared and small and sweet_

But

**Brave and big and brash**

{{all at the same time}}

So Rolf, which would you rather be

A golden boy-

Or tarnished?

A _diamond_-

Or in the _rough_?

A **dark, dark night-**

Or a **supernova**?

{{As if you wouldn't choose the latter}}

You pretend that you don't care when they talk

_{{you do, you truly, truly do}}_

That it doesn't bother you when they tease

_{{it does, it doesdoesdoes}}_

You laugh along with them

_{{on the inside you just crycrycry}}_

Don't _lie_ to yourself Rolf

You're fooling no one,

Least of all you.


	23. Fairytale

**HHHEEEEYYY! It's me again!**

**Ok, so I want to start off by saying**

**OHMYHOLYGODYOUGUYSARETHEBEST ICAN'TBELIVEIT:OVERONEHUNDREDREVIEWSI'MHYPERVENTHILATINGI'MSOHAPPYYOUGUYSARESUPERMEGAF OXYAWESOMEHOTANDILOVEYOUALL!**

**Yes, we have officially reached 100 reviews, I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so happy you, wouldn't even believe it!**

**108, actually, so a super big thanks to you all.**

**Remember a while ago, I said that my goal was one hundred reviews? I have to set a new goal, now, don't I?**

**So, one hundred and fifty, then, YAY!**

**Ohmygod!**

**Anyway, in other news, I'm doing a challenge. The Fantastic beasts challenge, I've posted the first one... maybe check it out? *flutters eyelashes***

**Anyway, onto the chapter!**

**Remus chapter, yay!**

**I love Remus! **

**This is a sad chapter, though. Really sad. One of my saddest.**

**Sorry about that... **

**I'll be posting a happy chapter, soon, i promise!**

**Anyway, here we go!  
Genre: Angst, horror, hurt.**

**Prompt: fairytale.**

**Character: Remus Lupin**

**Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter...**

**Oh, wait, sarcasm doesn't work over the internet... **

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Remus Lupin.

Remus Lupin was a perfectly happy little boy.

Average.

Regular.

_Normal._

He was like any other little boy, really.

He liked playing in the mud and climbing trees and rolling down hills.

He loved chocolate and sweets and cake, especially when his mother told him not to eat them.

He liked spiders and snails and frogs, all things furry and slimy.

He had lots of friends and two loving parents who adored him.

But not each other.

They couldn't _stand _each other.

They were determined to keep up appearances, though, for Remus' sake.

But John and Nancy Lupin were _far _from happy.

They'd fight in hisses and whispers in the dead of night making sure not to wake their darling son, who was the only reason they were still together.

She'd cry.

He'd apologise.

They'd forgive.

They never forgot.

One fight was the perfect ammunition for another.

They'd throw savage, cutting blows at each other, when Remus wasn't around.

She'd scream.

He'd yell.

She'd cry.

He'd storm out and leave.

She'd cry herself to sleep.

He'd drown his troubles and anger in "one more" drink.

(And another, and another, and... "Ah, go on, Tom, one more, eh?")

Then he'd stumble home, either begging for forgiveness, or angrier than ever.

She never knew which it would be, and it terrified her.

Sometimes, they'd forgive, she'd apologise, he'd apologise, and they'd start over.

And then the cycle would begin again.

It only got worse as Remus got older.

They tried harder to keep their unhappiness a secret, but Remus was older, and it was harder to hide things from him.

('Of _course _Daddy and I weren't fighting, Rem. Don't be silly, now why don't you go out and play?')

So they tried, they really did.

They didn't fight as much, but when they did, it was worse than ever before.

So she'd cry and he'd leave, and Remus would cry under the covers of his bed and pretend he couldn't hear.

John Lupin would come home from the Hog's Head, angry and bitter.

He took his anger out on everyone and everything.

Then one night, he stumbled out of the pub, tripping and swearing through the snow.

He ran into Fenrir Greyback.

Words were said, curses thrown, and John Lupin thought it was all over.

It wasn't.

Little Remus Lupin was bitten by the monster his father had offended.

John blamed himself.

So did Nancy.

And poor, normal, average, cheerful Remus Lupin became a monster at age eight.

A werewolf.

The word was whispered to Remus' sobbing mother as she sat next to his, pale, sleeping form covered in bandages and cuts that couldn't be healed.

Nancy and John's world had literally been, not only, turned upside down, but thrown up and down and all around.

They had to take care of Remus, they _had _to.

They couldn't be selfish and separate, like they wanted to.

Remus needed two loving, caring parents at a time like this.

So Nancy and John stayed together, for the sake of their poor, helpless little boy.

They tried everything, _everything _to try and help their poor son.

They went to healers in Saint Mungo's.

Nothing.

They went to a lycanthropy specialist in Bulgaria.

Nothing.

They tried every old wives' tale they could find.

Nothing.

They spent every galleon, sickle and knut they earned on potions that were, at the very least, meant to make the pain of transformation less painful.

They may as well have been Muggle painkillers, they had that little effect.

Sympathy came from few, and judgement from many.

Parents didn't want their children near Remus. They forgot how, only moths before, they all complimented Nancy on the politeness and gentle, friendly demeanour of her son.

The children were afraid of him, and his friends didn't want to be friends anymore.

He didn't even _look _the same. Not only was he covered in claw and bite marks, but his smile was replaced with a scowl, the friendly light in his eyes dimmed, then went out entirely.

Nancy and John didn't know what to do, they were helpless.

Nothing made it better, nothing made it go away, their darling boy stayed a monster.

They moved far away, where no one had heard of the terrible news.

Remus was no longer the happy, amiable little boy he had once been.

He was quiet, subdued. He wouldn't play outside anymore. Seeing furry creatures made him scared. He would do exactly as his mother said, when she said it. He never asked about his parents fighting. He still heard it, at the dead of night, when he was supposed to be asleep. (Instead he watched the moon, silently blaming it for his torture, watching it tick down the days before he transformed.)

Three years later, he went to Hogwarts, his parents seeing him off.

If anyone was looking at them, all they would have seen was a happy family.

They'd have seen a mother who was going to miss her little boy.

They'd have seen a father who was telling his son not to get into too much trouble.

They'd have seen a happy excited little boy, who couldn't wait to go off to his exciting new school.

They wouldn't have seen a broken family.

They wouldn't have seen parents who, not a year later, would be getting a divorce.

They wouldn't have seen a werewolf.

Remus wished that everything was as simple as what everyone saw.

He wished his mother and father were happy.

He wished he wasn't a werewolf.

He wished he were average, regular, _normal._

But nothing was as simple as that.

He was sorted into Gryffindor and wrote to tell his parents of the news that night.

He was in the same dormitory as the two boys who'd sat with him on the train, James Potter and Sirius Black, and two others, Peter Pettigrew and Frank Longbottom.

He did well in all of his classes, and had friends, and even after all they'd been through two loving parents who adored him.

But not each other.

They _still _couldn't _stand _each other.

They _didn't _live happily ever after, because it wasn't a fairytale.

But then again, whose life _is _like a fairytale?


	24. Name

**Hi readers! I really hope that you haven't forgotten who I am… that would be awkward… I know I haven't updated in ages, I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry!…. … … … (sorry). **  
**That being said, the reason I haven't updated in a while is that I've lacked inspiration, so send me in ideas and prompts and stuff, because in fairness, I have a limited supply of ideas bouncing about in my noodle.**  
**Anyway, on with the chapter!**  
**Ariana Dumbledore. This is going to be another sad chapter (I'm sorry… not really…) **  
**Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy and forgive me!**  
**Prompt: Names.**  
**Genre: Hurt, Angst**  
**Disclaimer: *System failure* *Failure to load Witty Disclaimer 927Z ***

Everyone remembers the first mean name they were called, don't they? Well, the ones that were said to their face, at least.

It's the first one that hurts the most, isn't it? It's new, fresh, and up until that point, the world was a happy place full of sunshine and

roses and children who used kind words. Then someone says something mean to you and the glossy image of perfection is

glass is shattered, and it's next to impossible to glue the pieces back together.

It happens to everyone.

The first mean name Harry Potter was called was "freak" by his aunt Petunia when he was one, but if you were to ask him, the first mean name he was called was "idiot" by his cousin Dudley at age five.

The first mean name Hermione Granger was called was "know-it-all" by Jeremy Baxter when she was seven.

The first mean name Ron was called was "bugger-head" by Fred and George when he was three. The memory never left him.

The first mean name Ariana Dumbledore was called was "freak" when she was six. She wasn't that different from Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, actually.

They were both freaks, and the day someone called them that, their worlds changed forever. Harry Potter had to live with his mean

aunt and uncle and Ariana was attacked by two Muggle boys. They both would've thought the other had gotten the worse end of the

stick. Harry got to keep his sanity, and Ariana got to keep her family… at first.

Ariana was a normal, happy child, really. She liked to read with Albus and cook with Mummy and sing with Daddy and feed goats with

Aberforth. She liked hair ribbons and pretty dresses and the multicoloured bubbles that Mummy and Daddy could make appear from

their wands. Like magic.

She liked magic, too. Albus told her all about the magical school he was going to attend soon.

Sometimes, when he and Aberforth were fighting, they made loud noises or glass break.

Magic was fun, she decided, but scary, too. You had to be careful with it, or things would get broken, and people would get hurt. You

had to be careful and you had to be able to control it.

And try as she might, it was too difficult to control.

She was in the garden when it happened.

It was autumn and all the leaves had fallen from the trees. They crackled under her feet. She spun around in a circle, making the leaves

scatter all around the garden. She stopped abruptly, feeling dizzy. She felt like she was still spinning, everything was turning around in

front of her. She was in the centre of a whirlwind made of leaves. They surrounded her, making a funnel. She didn't feel scared, she felt

excited. This was pretty magic, not scary magic.

She raised her arms above her head, and the leaves followed, flying above her and swirling into a huge sphere a foot above her head.

That was when she saw them. Four boys that Daddy had called Muggles, which meant that they weren't magical.

The leaves above her head stopped swirling abruptly, then fell down on top of her, catching in her hair and the hood of her coat.

"You can't do magic in front of them," Daddy said, "they're not like us. They won't understand."

"Yes," Mummy agreed, "if we do magic in front of them, we'll get in trouble,"

"Why?" Ariana asked, curious.

Daddy thought about it for a moment. "They're… afraid of magic," he said finally.

"Oh,' Ariana said, still confused, but decided to take his word for it.

"So do you ever do magic in front of Muggles?"

'Never,'

'How did you do that?' One of the boys demanded.

'I- I d-don't know,'

'Yes, you do!' Another insisted, squeezing through the gap in the fence where the boys had been hiding.

Ariana panicked, stumbling backwards.

'Show us!'

'Yeah, show us the trick!'

'No, I can't,'

'Show us, you freak!'

Freak. There it was. The first mean name Ariana Dumbledore had ever been called. It hurt, but not as badly as what happened next.

* * *

After those boys attacked her, she was never the same again. Magic was scary, it could hurt you. It could bubble up inside of you like fizzy drink that someone just shook. And as much as you tried there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Ariana tried to stop it though, she felt the familiar bubbling at the pit of her stomach, the fizzing in her gut, and would try to stop the

magic that scared her so much. It drove her insane, slowly but surely. Into that spiralling rabbit hole that is insanity.

'How are you feeling today, Ari?' Mummy or Daddy or one of her brothers would ask.

The answer changed daily. One day, she'd be fine, back to normal, and another, she'd be trapped in dark, scary places that her mind

thought of.

Insanity was fickle like that.

* * *

A few days after the boys attacked her, two men in professional looking robes showed up at the door and took Daddy away.

She heard Mummy and Albus talking about it that night when she and Aberforth were meant to be asleep.

'…won't tell them why he did it, will he?' she heard Albus say as she crept closer to the door, straining to hear their hushed, worried.

'Of course not. Of course he won't. They'll take her away, to Saint Mungo's,'

'Would that be such a bad thing? Maybe they could help her,' Albus said.

'There's no helping her. They'll keep her locked up and keep her away from us. I won't let that happen, and neither will your father.'

Ariana heard a chair scrape across the floor and ran back to bed.

* * *

She killed her mother. Not even the worst people did that, she thought to herself when her head was clear and she was "normal". She

wasn't sure which she hated more: the times when she felt the insanity swallow her whole, or when she had a level head and all she

could think about was her dead parents, both of whose death she was, in one way or another, responsible for.

She was miserable, and felt even worse when Albus putt his dreams on hold to look after her. She wondered if he hated her, just a

little bit. She didn't want to find out the answer.

She was happy, at first, when Albus met Gellert Grindelwald. He seemed happier. He spent less time with her, of course, but the time

he did spend with her, he didn't seem to mind as much.

Aberforth hated Gellert. That was obvious.

He hated Albus too. Also, obvious.

That made Ariana sad. They were all they had left, and they spent their time squabbling pettily.

She tried to talk some sense into them, but they wouldn't listen. Who would? Who would listen to what a freak had to say?

* * *

Ariana Dumbledore died when she was fourteen years old.

She died trying to help stop a fight that she knew would end in heartbreak and bloodshed.

She died trying to retain the small fragments of family she had left.

She died believing she was a freak. Even though she wasn't.


	25. Portrait

**Hello, my lovlies! How are we all. **

**I know, I haven't updated in aaagggeeess. I'm sorry. Really. I just... have lacked inspiration. Also, I got a Tumlbr account. Those of you who have Tumblr will understand ****_exactly _****where I'm coming from.**

**Anyhoo, what I'm ****_basically _****saying is that please please please send me prompts or requests, or ideas via PM. PLEASE!**

**So, no that that's out of the way, on with the chapter.**

**It's about Albus Potter, and I hope you enjoy!**

**Characters: Albus Potter, Severus Snape**

**Prompt: Portrait **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... now I'm sad, you guys had better review to cheer me up!**

, Albus walked through the corridor, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could. The castle was silent, so different from how it was during the day, when you could hardly think for all of the noise.

During the day, there was the hundreds of chattering, talking, giggling, laughing, gossiping, yelling, squawking, shrieking students. The students alone were enough to nearly deafen Albus, but there were still the ghosts, the suits of armour, the portraits and Merlin knows what else making a ruckus. Then, when you went outside, there were the animals that Hagrid was using for lessons, the centaurs that entered the grounds as they pleased and, once again, students who just _wouldn't be quiet._

Albus loved Hogwarts from the second he set foot in the place, of course, but he really wished that sometimes it would just be _quiet. _He liked quiet, it was easier to think in.

His friends liked to stay up til all hours, talking in the common room, or in the dormitories. They were great friends, but maybe a bit too loud sometimes. This never bothered Albus, after all, chatty people were a quiet person's best friends, but he knew they never understood that sometimes, it was nice to just stay still, stay silent and let your mind wander.

Albus always wondered why he wasn't put in Ravenclaw, like Lily. He was smart, one of the best in his year. He wasn't just "book-smart", too, he has the sort of cunning and common sense that James lacked.

Which was probably why he was put in Slytherin.

He'd been as shocked as anyone else. Harry Potter's son, in _Slytherin. _

Oh, he had to deal with whispers and gossip for _weeks._

As much as he'd feared being sorted into Slytherin, he'd immediately felt at home, sitting at the table in the Great Hall, in the common room, in the dormitories with his friends.

He was _glad_ to be put into Slytherin house. Gryffindor table was easily the loudest (And James was probably responsible for about half of that noise). They were always yelling, excited about _something. _They were loud, they were boisterous, they were attention-seeking and attention-grabbing. They were Gryffindors. He respected the house, of course he did, and he knew that they were noble and brave and they had so many great, wonderful qualities, but it just wasn't for _him_.

Hufflepuff was next. They were all so _nice _to each other. They were like one huge family. They talked and chattered and were constantly laughing. They were such a nice house, they couldn't bear for anyone to be left out of a conversation, so _every single person _at the table was talking. He liked Hufflepuff, too. They were just so _good. _That was probably why he wasn't in Hufflepuff, if he had to smile as much as anyone in there, his face would seize up.

And Ravenclaw, while quieter than the other two tables, was constantly _buzzing. _Buzzing with cool, intelligent conversation about something important and topical. Any new article _Transfiguration Today _and they talked about it for hours. And every so often, a debate would break out and then the yelling would start. They were passionate about knowledge, Ravenclaws, so Albus understood why he wasn't in that house either. He usually kept his opinion to himself. He liked Ravenclaws, too, they were great to have a conversation with, and nine times out of ten, he left knowing something he hadn't before.

But Slytherin, Slytherin was quiet, cunning, sneaky, sly. The amazing thing was that Slytherins probably spent the most time _thinking. _They were smart, and they never told anyone their plans, not even their friends. They were conniving, watchful, taking in information, deducing. They were _smart, _in a way no other house was. It suited him.

He got on surprisingly well with just about everyone, and why wouldn't he? He was Albus Potter, a shoulder to cry on, a great listener. He listened to everyone, and they trusted him not to tell anyone what they'd said. He was probably the most trusted Slytherin that ever lived. Except, of course, for Severus Snape.

So, Albus was wandering the corridors, late at night. Breaking the rules, just like James, who he'd nicked the invisibility cloak from weeks ago. James was too busy with Quidditch to sneak out and explore every night.

He walked down a familiar corridor, the one that his charms classroom was on. He liked watching the portraits, half of whom were asleep, the other half awake. He liked to see which frames were empty and tried to figure out which people belonged in the frames.

He continued to walk, basking in the silence. He can't believe he hadn't been doing this since day one. During his first year, he'd just tried to stay out of trouble and fade into the background- why did everyone have to _stare_ at him? So, after first year, he was finally comfortable enough to be himself, knowing that people had _finally _stopped seeing him just as Harry Potter's son. He'd started wandering about the place halfway through third year, because James had joined the Quidditch team then, so he could use the Cloak.

There were some places he never ventured to. He never went to the dungeons, he never went outside, because they were too far from the common room. He wasn't stupid about it, he didn't want to get caught, he just wanted some peace and quiet. The guys in his dormitory were loud, even when they were asleep; they snored and Goyle talked in his sleep, so he honestly _never _shut up.

Albus continued on through the corridors, walking absentmindedly until he reached a familiar set of stairs. The ones to the dungeons. Without really thinking about it, he quickly descended into the dark depths of the dungeons.

That's where he had potions class. His dad had told him a whole bunch of stories about things he'd done in the dungeons. He'd been to a _deathday _party and everything.

The dungeons were icy cold. And each step Albus took echoed so loudly, it made him wince at each step. He tried to tread as lightly as possible. After taking the first right turn, deeper into the dungeons, he felt comfortable to take off the Cloak. It had been making his shoulders cramp.

He'd always taken the first left in the dungeon corridor, to his potions room, so this was a new place to explore for him.

He'd always liked the dungeons, mainly because everyone was quiet in the dungeons, maybe because the dungeons creeped them out a bit, but whatever the reason, Albus appreciated it. He liked potions a lot, too, so, unlike most of the other students, the dungeons were one of his favourite places.

He continued to explore the dungeon, until he turned a corner and was met with a dead end.

He thought he saw a frame hanging on the end wall, and crept closer to try and see.

As he got closer, he saw that there _was_, in fact, a portrait hanging on the far wall. He couldn't help but wonder why anyone would want to hang a portrait there of all places. It was dark, he could barely see the portrait from his spot, not two feet away and from the thick layer of dust that his feet had disturbed, he could tell that no one had been down this corridor in quite some time.

He stepped cautiously closer, trying to be quiet, as, from the sound of the portrait's breathing, whoever occupied the frame was asleep.

He took a few more steps, disturbing the dust again, and began to sneeze. Loudly.

He was close enough to see the portrait then. Close enough to see it -him- wake up.

The portrait was of a greasy haired, hook nosed, sallow skinned man. His black hair hung in greasy curtains, framing his face, his mouth curled into a sneer.

'Just _who _are you?' he asked, his voice slightly snide.

'Al-Albus Potter,' Albus stuttered, then, looking at the small, gold plate underneath, which read Severus Snape, added, 'Albus Severus Potter,'

Albus looked up at the portrait in interest, looking at the man he'd been named after.

Severus Snape regarded the boy standing before him. He looked exactly like his father, down to the one detail that, even then made his heart clench.

Lily Evans' eyes.

'And I,' he said, smiling for the first time in years, 'am Severus Snape.'


End file.
